Two Weeks Later
by AliyahNCIS
Summary: Ziva's been home for half a month and Tony is looking forward to fixing their broken friendship. But there's so much he doesn't know about what happened in Somalia, and it will affect everything. Pt 2 of Remnants of Somalia series, sequel to After Somalia
1. Chapter 1

Ziva slowly walked into Tony's apartment, wearing a backpack and clutching a small blue duffle bag in her hand. It was the extent of what she owned. She had collected a few more things every day since her return, and at least had the necessities now. Everyone on the team was taking turns hosting her while she adjusted to being back before looking for her own place.

Abby had been first, eager to share anything she had that might help. But after the first time Ziva woke up screaming, nearly scaring Abby to death, she'd made McGee come and stay for the rest of Ziva's time at her place. Ziva was embarrassed to be so unable to control her dreams, but it was also nice to open her eyes from her bed on the couch and see McGee and Abby, cuddled up in sleeping bags on the air mattress together. It seemed those two couldn't say away from each other, even in their sleep. Ziva wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid to be alone with herself, and so she continued agreeing to the offers of another couch to sleep on.

Now it was Tony's turn. Two weeks ago this would have been terribly awkward, but after she'd finally got up the nerve to apologize and cornered him in the bathroom this morning, things were beginning to feel more and more like the old them and Ziva was glad to have these next two weeks to work on rebuilding their friendship back to what it had been, before everything else messed things up.

When she started to put her things down on the couch, which was nicely made up with a pillow, sheets, and blankets, Tony grabbed her arm and dragged her down the hall to his bedroom instead.

"Tony, what...?" she started to ask, but he interrupted before she finished her thought.

"Look Ziva," he said proudly, stopping when they were inside his room. "I made the bed, clean sheets of course and cleaned my room. I scrubbed the bathroom, put the toilet seat down. I even did laundry," he grinned, "just for you."

Ziva looked puzzled. "Why?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Because. It's rude to make a guest sleep in the livingroom. So, for the next two weeks," he gestured around, "this is your room."

"I do not want to take your room Tony," she tried to protest.

"Hey, Ziva, I'm trying to be a gentleman here. I know it doesn't happen often, so please, just...play along, will you?"

The look in his eyes stopped Ziva from arguing further. He was desperate for her to agree, wanting to do something, to give her something that might help. So she smiled instead.

"Thank you Tony. That is very...sweet of you."

Biting back a retort, Tony reached out to take her bags, but despite how close she'd gotten in the bathroom this morning, it didn't take a genius to see that she wanted to avoid his touch. Trying not to react to the look in her eyes, Tony threw on his signature grin to cover any other emotions. "I'm gonna head out and throw on some pasta for dinner. Just...make yourself at home.

He left her standing in the room, clutching her meager belongings. It felt strange to be given a whole room and a bathroom when she'd been prepared to live out of bags and steal snatches of sleep on other's couches. She tried to smile, the expression still feeling foreign on her face. Tony was going to complain about his sore back for the next two weeks, but refuse all of her offers to switch places with him. She was thankful for this man, her friend. Thankful that she could still call him that.

Back in the kitchen, Tony was pulling out pots and pans, boiling water, and searching for the bag of twirly pasta he knew he'd stashed somewhere. He didn't hear Ziva enter the room and spun around when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes. He sagged back against the counter, gasping and holding his chest.

"Gosh Ziva! At least warn me next time! You're gonna give me a heart attack here!"

Ziva's smile was still a ghost of what the old one looked like, and while Tony seemed to remember how she loved walking around in bare feet, tonight Ziva sported black socks. He nodded towards the livingroom.

"Why don't you just chill on the couch for awhile? Supper will be ready before you know it."

Ziva frowned. "I am not cold. Besides, I could help."

Tony was glad his back was to her right now. The kitchen wasn't that big, and the two of them in a fairly small space would challenge his declaration to be a gentleman. At the same time, he didn't want to hurt her feelings or act like he didn't want to have her around. Tony was thrilled that she was staying for awhile. They needed a firmer foundation for their previously broken friendship.

"Okay Miss David," he said, covering up any nerves with a cocky grin, "you get to be in charge of salad."

They made the meal in silence, which Tony was getting more used to. Ziva talked a whole lot less since she'd come back, and he often wondered what it was exactly that she was keeping inside. How much was she still hiding from them? Two weeks of close quarters - maybe this was his chance to finally find out.

**NCIS**

When the pasta was drained, the sauce warmed, and the salad made up in a clear plastic bowl, Tony and Ziva sat down at the small table in his kitchen. Despite their moment this morning, neither really knew what to say. Ziva listlessly moved her fork back and forth through the salad and pasta in front of her. She'd been starving in Somalia, another of her captors' ways of trying to break her.

And as grateful as she'd been to see food again, the first meal she'd tried to eat once home had sent her running for the bathroom after only a few bites. So Ziva was more careful now, eating slower, and to her surprise, finding that sometimes she did not want to eat at all.

Tony sat across from her, hating how quiet it was. They used to have no shortage of comments to make to each other, or sarcastic remarks to trade. For the last week she'd sat at her desk, so long empty, looking at him and occasionally smiling, but not speaking unless spoken to. He didn't like it.

But above everything else, Tony was so glad she was alive. Two and a half weeks ago he'd never expected to see Ziva alive again. His world was crushed when Gibbs came into the lab, announcing that the Damocles had gone down with no survivors. So when they dragged her into the room and pulled the bag off her head, for a second Tony's heart had stopped beating. And then he said the first thing that came to his mind.

There hadn't even been a flicker of emotion or life in her eyes when he'd asked Ziva about her summer. And when the truth serum forced him to spill his heart to her at the wrong time to answer the question of why he was there, he'd looked into her eyes and seen nothing. Like her body was sitting in front of him but she was no longer there. And in the middle of the joy inside him that she was real and alive, a niggling fear started to grow. Perhaps they really had lost her after all, even though she was found.

Tony thought back to that first night at Gibbs' house watching her try to sleep. That was the closest they'd been, because once life went back to normal as much as that were possible, they'd hardly spoken for these last two weeks. Finally Tony sighed and dropped his fork with a clatter. The simple noise made Ziva tense and jump and he had to fight not to ask what they'd done to her in Somalia, to make her afraid for the first time since he'd known her.

"This is ridiculous," he declared, picking up his plate and walking over to the couch. He came back a moment later for Ziva's, and offered his hand. She sat staring at her lap and shook her head. It was a such a tiny movement that he barely saw it. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, attempting to quell the feeling of rejection.

After a minute Ziva followed him and settled gingerly on the couch. Standing at his wall of movies, Tony ran through their options. Nothing too serious, nothing scary, nothing too close to real life. He didn't want anything violent or anything that would confuse her too much. Romantic wouldn't be a good idea and Ziva had always scoffed at chick flicks anyways. So that left comedy or something animated.

While Ziva waited, Tony hemmed and hawed, finally selecting three he thought would do, deciding that she could choose. "Okay Zi, what's it going to be? _Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein_, a 1940s classic, _Evan Almighty_, Noah's Ark in the twenty-first century, or _Horton Hears a Who_, Dr. Seuss at his finest." He noticed the way she was looking at him and gave her a half-grin. "What?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "I had forgotten you called me that."

He cocked his head to the side. "Called you what?"

"Zi."

"Oh." Tony frowned. It wasn't like her to forget things. Or maybe he should say it wasn't like the old her to forget things. This new one he wasn't quite sure about yet. "Is that okay?"

She didn't meet his eyes, but that was another trait of this new Ziva, difficulty keeping eye contact. "It is fine."

He tapped the DVD cases. "Movie, Ziva?"

Again she shrugged helplessly. "I do not think that I have seen any of them. They are your movies, you choose."

That was one of the longest sentences Tony'd heard her speak recently and figured that was as good as it was going to get.

"_Evan Almighty_ it is then," he grinned, popping the movie into his DVD player. "Prepare to be amazed."

Tony lifted his plate onto his lap and leaned forward eagerly as the movie began. Ziva soaked in the familiar picture for several moments before arranging herself in a cross-legged position and carefully balancing her plate on one knee. The food felt strange in her stomach, her new clothes still smelled faintly of the store. And while, if pressed later, Ziva wouldn't've been able to say what the movie was about or if she'd even laughed, which she hadn't done in months, she spent the time sitting on Tony's couch, breathing in life again and wondering if she really deserved it.

**NCIS**

A few hours and a movie and a half later, Tony and Ziva's plates were on the coffee table and both were slouched comfortably on the couch. Ziva was surprised that Tony could get so involved in a movie about an animated elephant, but she was thankful that he had selected something light.

Moving carefully, the marks on her back not yet healed, Ziva changed positions so she was propped in the corner of the couch but laying down a little more. She winced when the material of her shirt caught on a scab and pulled. Tony looked over when he felt Ziva shift. He'd been checking on her every few minutes, mostly to make sure she was still there. Some days having her back felt like a dream, and he was afraid he'd wake up one day and find out that she was still dead, instead of rescued from the death she thought she was ready for.

Just as he was turning back to the movie, it registered with him that her shirt had ridden up when she moved. Before Michael, before Somalia, Tony would've taken every excuse or opportunity to catch a glimpse of more of Ziva's skin, but not now, and certainly not like this. What he saw in the couple of inches between her shirt and pants was her beautiful tanned skin marred by several different lines and marks, and that was only what he could see.

Tony sat up suddenly, pointing at her stomach. "Ziva," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking, "are there more?"

Ziva's eyes widened and she yanked her shirt down, shaking her head and looking away. He reached for her hand, but Ziva shrank back from him. Tony couldn't hide the hurt that flashed in his eyes this time and she tried to explain.

"Tony, I..." she began, but then her eyes changed, the panic overwhelming her again. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, and she was afraid she was going to be sick.

Ziva scrambled off the couch and raced to the bathroom, needing to be somewhere no one's eyes would be on her. Tony didn't even hesitate before following her. He stood outside the bathroom door, listening to her ragged breathing and wondering if she was crying. He'd never seen Ziva cry, but this seemed like the most likely time, if it was going to happen at all.

He knocked softly. "Ziva?" he asked.

Sitting curled up on Tony's bathroom floor, Ziva couldn't've answered even if she'd wanted to. She was too busy focusing on taking deep breaths and trying to convince her dinner to stay down.

Eventually Tony slid down to a sitting position against the wall. A few minutes later he turned the handle and found she hadn't locked it. He let the door swing open and saw her huddled against the tub.

"Zi," he spoke quietly, not wanting to make whatever it was worse. "Hey," Tony tried again when she didn't answer, "wanna talk about it?"

Ziva's eyes finally met his and he saw in them a vulnerability and brokenness he hated, because it wasn't her. She shook her head slowly.

"I should not have let myself be captured alive," she whispered, her words dripping with the pain of that summer.

Tony wanted so bad to hug her or something, but he was afraid to touch her, afraid it might hurt or scare her. His throat was tight and his heart squeezed at her soft admission. When he spoke, his tone was firm.

"Don't ever wish that Ziva," he said fiercely. "No matter what happened, you're alive."

She closed her eyes, suffering clear in her face. "You do not know what they did Tony." She opened her eyes briefly and looked at him. "I did not mean to live through it."

Tony's jaw clenched and he tried not to hear her words, not wanting to go back to the nightmares he'd had, wondering what she might have endured at the hands of those terrorists. He swallowed, determined to make her see something.

"You don't know what life was like for us while you were gone Ziva." His smile was half-hearted, his joking tone faked as he sought to interject some levity into the situation. "Abby...Abby was so broken. She was mad at everyone and everything for weeks." He tried to chuckle. "If possible, I think she wore even more black. None of us were allowed to be out of her sight for more than an hour at a time without calling to check in."

Tony focused on a point on the wall, feeling sick as he remembered those dark days. "McGee, he wandered around like a little lost puppy dog. Gibbs never stopped looking at your desk, it was like losing Kate all over again only worse." _Because I didn't love Kate like I realized I loved you. Kate was my sister. But you Ziva...you're my heart. And I still might not get the chance to tell you that_. "Ducky lost his spark, he looked so much older, Palmer didn't know what to say to anyone and every time he tried he made a mess of it, I guess that didn't change..." He trailed off and met her gaze again. "Life was a mess without you Ziva. We need you."

Ziva regarded him with serious, questioning eyes. "And you Tony?" She wasn't sure what she hoped to hear, but he was the only one left out of the story.

Tony knew what she wanted, what she was asking, but he'd never been good with feelings and deep emotional thoughts. He shrugged, slipping into his old persona as a shield against being rejected.

"Oh...well, I was the rock that held everyone together, the glue that made us all stick. I had a joke for every situation and only I could make Abby smile. It's just all part of..." His lies faltered under the weight of her stare and Tony dropped his head into his hands.

"I was the worst of all of them," he muttered darkly. "It was like I forgot how to function without you there Zi. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, but most of all I couldn't accept that you were dead." He met her dark brown eyes again and took a deep breath. "You didn't mean to live through it all Ziva." Tony paused, then admitted the truth for the first time. "Neither did I."

Her eyes never left his and her brow creased. "Did you come to die with me Tony?"

Tony's fingers itched to hold her hand, to not be having this conversation while sitting on the floor, the cold bathroom tile between them. "I came to die for you Ziva." He still remembered the way her skin smelled like honey, how her hair felt when he ruffled it to annoy her, her body so close to his as they looked at a report or fought for control of the plasma screen remote. "It seemed the least I could do."

If Ziva hadn't wanted to cry before, she did now. This was how he felt? How long had it been like this? After she left, or long before that, his jealousy over Michael covering up deeper feelings? She closed her eyes.

"I am not worth anyone dying for me," she whispered, her gaze dropping to her knees.

This time Tony did move closer. He scooted across the floor until their feet were touching, countering her movements when she tried to remove her hands from his grasp. He needed to be touching her for this.

"Ziva," he said, squeezing her hands to get her looking at him, "you are worth everything. Someday I'll make you believe it."

Ziva didn't want to deal with this now, didn't want to try to understand the meaning behind his words. "I am tired," she said finally, pulling her hands out of his, needing him to get out of her personal space.

Tony seemed to get it, that everything was too much right now.

"Me too," he said, standing up. "Guess it's time for bed."

Grateful for his understanding, Ziva slowly stood up. Her eyes searched his face. "Good night Tony."

Wishing he had the freedom to kiss her forehead or squeeze her hand, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "_Laila tov_," Tony replied quietly, leaving Ziva standing in the hallway, her gaze following him down the hall.

The first thing she did in Tony's room was turn on the lamp, dispelling the shadows. Unzipping her duffle bag, Ziva found the white and purple pyjamas Gibbs had given her that first night. When she tried to return them later, he had told her to keep them. "Nobody I'd rather see wear them." For some reason that was a comfort to Ziva, so she slept in them every night, washing as needed, still getting used to the feeling of clean clothes again.

She brushed her teeth and hair, then went back into the bedroom and slipped quickly under the covers. She never thought she'd be sleeping in his bed without him in it. That thought startled her, because right now she it would freak her out a lot more if she was sleeping here and Tony was in his bed.

Ziva rolled onto her stomach carefully, mindful of everything that was still sore. She believed Tony that he'd cleaned up and changed the sheets just for her, but the top blanket was the same one he'd slept under. It smelled like him. Ziva wrapped it around her body and took a deep breath, not willing to speculate as to why Tony's scent made her feel safe for the first time in a long time.

It was sort of like sleeping in Gibbs' house and knowing he wouldn't let anything happen to her, but different. That first night she hadn't been afraid to fall asleep, she hadn't know how bad the dreams could get. Now Ziva knew what to expect. Abby and McGee had adapted well to what she needed when Ziva had stayed there. But now it was another new place, another new person, and she did not want Tony to hear her dreams. She didn't know what they sounded like, but she knew what they felt like, what they looked like, and could only imagine what someone would see from the outside.

That moment in the livingroom drifted back to her, when Tony had pointed to her body and asked about the scars. She would have to be much more careful in the future. Ziva knew Tony thought he needed to know, thought he could handle it, but she had seen the look in his eyes when they found her alive. To see her scars would break her friend, and Ziva couldn't bear to see the revulsion that would fill his eyes if he ever saw them all and not just the few he'd glimpsed.

She didn't like to look at the scars and they were hers. She did not like to see how the hands in Somalia had changed her body. Forever she was marked by them. How could she ever let anyone else look?

Her body had always been something she was proud of. Sure, there was the odd battle scar here and there, but she knew what could be accomplished with her body, knew that men found her attractive and that she could easily make them want her. She had done so with Tony on numerous occasions before, it was part of their game. Her body had always been a security for her.

Now, she shook her head slowly, now it would never be the same. She would never be beautiful again, not when she looked like this. Instead of the tool, the shield she had used it as all her life, now her body was just broken, ground into dust and ashes like the rest of her soul. Ziva blinked back the tears. No man would ever want her again.

It was a very lonely feeling because all her life Ziva David had longed to be wanted, to be appreciated, to be loved. And now, after Somalia, that would never happen. She shook her head, too tired for all the nonsense swirling around in her sleep deprived mind. Closing her eyes, Ziva took a deep breath, repeating the same line over and over in her head, just like she'd been doing for two straight weeks.

_I will not dream...I will not dream...I will not dream._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey guys! I meant to post a note at the beginning of Chapter One but totally forgot, my bad. So the thing about this story is that it's coming in the middle of my still trying to finish a story in my Jibbs universe. My profuse apologies but I'll be lucky if I get to update TWL once a week. Hope that doesn't turn anyone off too much. Anyhow, enjoy Chapter 2 - lots more to come! Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/favourites! You guys know just how to make me smile :D_

Tony shifted on his couch. It was his favourite place to watch movies but not the best place to sleep. He punched his pillow into a different shape and moved to his other side. Finally he gave up trying to find a comfortable position and just lay still, thinking about earlier.

There had been a lot of charged emotions in the bathroom, mostly from him, but only because Ziva was doing her best to hide everything and he wished like crazy that she would just talk to him, tell him what had really happened during those three months in Somalia, even if after seeing a few of her scars, he was now afraid to hear how she'd gotten them.

He checked the clock again. Just after 1 am, ten minutes since the last time he looked. On the coffee table his cell phone vibrated and Tony grabbed it fast before it started ringing. He held it to his ear, hoping it wasn't a case. He didn't want to leave Ziva alone or wake her up to drag her into the office with him. There wasn't much she could do right now, as her application to be an agent was still pending approval.

"DiNozzo," he answered, expecting to hear Gibbs' voice answer him.

"Tony?" Abby's voice was small and he sat up in alarm, wondering what was wrong. The last time she'd called him this late was after Gibbs left for Mexico and she'd been so drunk she couldn't stand, let alone get home.

"What's wrong Abs?" he asked, concern infusing his words.

Abby must've been thinking about that night two years ago as well, because she let out a breath and shook her head, even knowing he couldn't see her through the phone. "I'm okay Tony. How's Ziva?"

Tony relaxed back onto the couch, his pulse calming when she told him nothing was wrong. "She's sleeping Abby. She was pretty tired tonight." He chuckled. "My movie choices must've worn her out."

"Not _Die Hard 2_, right?" Abby asked, partially teasing and partially hoping he'd been more sensitive than that.

"Relax Abs, it was comedy night."

She let out a breath. "Oh, good."

Tony frowned. "Did you just call to check on Ziva or did you need something?" He didn't like the hesitation he could hear in her voice. Abby didn't hesitate. She blurted out whatever came to mind and it somehow ended up working out okay in the end. "You don't need me to come over there and tuck you in, or hold your hand because of a bad dream, do you?"

He was partially serious and partially joking. One night when she'd fallen asleep in her lab, he'd been ordered by Gibbs to see that she got home okay. As zonked as she was, Abby had insisted he stay and tuck her in, telling him it was the big brother thing to do. There was never any arguing with Abby, so he'd done as she asked.

And a couple of times over the years Abby had called him just to hear another voice on the phone after she'd had a bad dream. If the dream was incredibly awful, she'd pack up her things and go sleep in Gibbs' guest room for the night. Their team was a strange family, if they were ever labeled like that, but what they had and what they did for each other worked. And he'd challenge anyone that said otherwise.

Abby laced her fingers through the fingers of the man sitting beside her. Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva had brought a much more serious McGee back to her, after their time in the Horn of Africa. This Tim was quieter and more thoughtful. He'd seen things and experienced things that had shaken the way he viewed the world and people, and it was taking him some time to find his legs again.

For once Abby had done what she should've done years ago, she'd welcomed Tim back with a hug she'd had a hard time pulling back from, so it lasted minutes instead of seconds. She'd never been so glad to see all of them come back safe. And then, it was Tim she'd turned to when she needed support.

After two weeks of sleeping on an air mattress in her livingroom together, trying their best to comfort Ziva when she woke, and also bringing solace to each other, Abby had a hard time falling asleep without him by her side. She'd only tried it for one night before working up her nerve and calling Tim to ask if he could stay over again.

It had been a special moment for them. No arguing, no teasing, just, "I'll be right there Abbs." And true to his word, he had been. McGee had wrapped her in his arms and held her, when her body shook from remembering Ziva's screams, and she hated knowing that he might have seen what Ziva was seeing in her dreams.

"Thanks anyways Tony," she said softly, "but I have someone else to hold my hand now." Whatever she and McGee weren't before he left, they were trying to be now. But Tony didn't need to know that yet. Even if Abby thought this new, more mature Tony, might actually understand and not tease. She paused again. "There's just some things you need to know about Ziva."

Tony rubbed his forehead. "Do you mean the scars?"

"Scars?" Abby's forehead wrinkled. "What scars? I was talking about her nightmares. What scars Tony?"

"Nightmares?" he asked, trying to throw her off track. If Ziva hadn't let Abby see then he certainly wasn't going to announce to the black-haired girl how much her friend had actually been hurt. "Abby?"

Abby swallowed and glanced at McGee, who looked at her reassuringly. "Ziva has nightmares," she whispered, "really bad ones. Oh Tony...she wakes up screaming, sometimes we couldn't get her out of them. It made me feel so helpless to know she was trapped in these awful memories that no one could save her from." She took a deep breath, trying not to cry. "I thought you should know. Because it will give you chills and make you reach for your gun before you understand what's going on."

"Every night?" he asked in an empty voice.

Wishing she could say no, Abby said yes. "For two straight weeks I was as afraid to go to sleep as she was. It starts off fine, for an hour or two, even three or four, everything seems okay. But then she starts moving restlessly and making little noises in her throat. After that," Abby closed her eyes, "Tony if you hear her then, promise me you'll wake her up. By the time she wakes up screaming it's gotten so much worse and she doesn't know who anyone is for the first few seconds. I couldn't even hug her, I couldn't help, everything just made it worse." Abby's tears were falling now and Tim put his arm around her, holding her close.

Tony hated the sound of her distress when he wasn't in the room to offer a hug, or some way to help. "Abs, do you want me to come?" It was a futile offer, but she needed to know he meant it.

"No," Abby sniffed, "you can't leave Ziva."

"Are you okay?" he asked, still worried.

"I'm not alone," she whispered, and he didn't know if she meant she was at Gibbs' house or someone was at her apartment with her. He didn't ask, but if Probie knew what was good for him, he'd be the one soaking up Abby's tears tonight.

He sighed heavily. "Thanks for telling me Abby. I appreciate the warning."

"You needed to know," she said simply. "Make them go away Tony, please make Ziva's dreams go away."

"Oh Abs," Tony choked out, "I will if I can."

"Just try," she insisted softly. "Good night Tony."

"Night Abby. See you tomorrow."

The phone in his hand went black and Tony knew she had hung up. He slowly lay back down. If he thought he was concerned about Ziva before, it was ten times worse now. He remembered having to wake her that first night. It seemed that maybe he'd caught her just before things had gotten worse. He hoped he'd have that same opportunity tonight, and was beginning to think that even the couch was too far away from where she was sleeping just down the hall.

**NCIS**

The first scream jerked Tony out of his restless slumber. Without even a pause to think, he jumped off the couch and tore down the hallway to his room. Her second scream hit before he opened the door and for a moment, Tony froze. But the desperation of the sound propelled him forward.

He pushed open the door to find Ziva writhing on the bed, her face contorted in pure agony, fists clenching the bed sheets tightly. Looking at her now, the only thing Tony wanted to do was save her from whatever she was remembering. Moving slowly lest she notice and kick into Mossad survival mode in her sleep, Tony approached the side of the bed.

Her head was flung back, her muscles coiled tightly, a sheen a perspiration on her face. Cautiously he reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Ziva cringed and whimpered, jerking away from his touch. The pyjamas she wore that used to be Shannon's were not enough to cover all her scars, and the way she shrank away from every form of contact since her return made him sick just thinking about what might've been done to her to provoke that reaction.

Another scream shattered the tortured silence and Tony knew he had to stop this now. Sinking down on the side of the bed, he brushed back her hair as he'd seen Gibbs do on the plane after Ziva had fallen asleep from exhaustion. It seemed to soothe her then and he hoped it would do the same thing now.

"Ziva," he said softly, but she didn't seem to hear him. Tony realized he'd have to be louder than the voices in her head.

"Ziva!" his voice rose, but she continued to battle against the memories and Tony was betting frantic because she wasn't waking up.

It was probably a mistake but he put both hands on her upper arms and shook her. "Ziva!" he snapped.

Suddenly her eyes were open but they weren't focused and Tony could tell she was seeing ghosts in a prison cell and not her partner and his room. She struggled weakly against his grip on her arms, using the force of her legs as well to try to get his body away from her.

Tony hated seeing her like this, terrified of the one guy trying to help her. "Ziva come on, please," he begged, slipping one arm around her back and using the other to gently pin her arms to her side, pulling her against him. "Wake up," he whispered into her hair. "It's me, it's Tony. Please wake up Ziva."

**NCIS**

In her mind, Ziva was fighting to loose her wrists from the ropes binding her to the sturdy wooden chair in her cell, struggling not to let the flame licking at her skin or knives digging into her flesh make her say anything that would jeopardize her family at NCIS.

Then the dusty, dim cell faded away and slowly became the blue walls of Tony's bedroom. The bonds on her wrists were his arms around her, the chair his body as he kept her close, the threats spoken into her ear his quiet pleas for her to wake up and know it was him.

For the split second before everything came back to her, Ziva felt complete relief that it was Tony, that he was here, holding her, trying to keep her safe from the nightmares that always found her. But being awake and aware registered now and his arms wrapped around her body brought back memories she could not afford to relive. Her skin crawled when she felt his warm breath on her neck, and every muscle that had just relaxed was suddenly tense again.

Tony was still whispering to her when Ziva began to pull away from him, a more coordinated struggle than before. "Zi?" he asked, half-afraid of the answer.

"I am awake Tony." Her breath caught. "Please let me go."

The distress in her tone and the slight quaver in her words surprised him. But he removed his arms and slid further down the bed, wanting to look like less of a threat, as Ziva sat up on her own, pushing her fingers into her sweaty curls. Any other time the sight of a disheveled girl in his bed would make Tony go crazy with lust. But this was not just any girl and he wasn't going to think inappropriate thoughts about her, not tonight.

Tony watched her for several moments, heart aching because there was nothing he could do that would help or make her hurt any less. "How about a hot shower?" he suggested at last. "And maybe some new pyjamas?"

Ziva felt the dampness on her shirt, feeling chilled now that the terror was fading. Still, she could not change. She looked away.

"I do not have anything else to wear to bed Tony," she admitted, hating feeling so helpless and dependent. Nothing was hers right now, not really, and the lack of control scared her, kept her anchored to a chair in a terrorist camp in Somalia, where hell had become real at the hands of men with no souls.

"Ah," Tony's face lit up. "That is a problem easily solved."

He went to his dresser and pulled the bottom drawer out. A minute later he tossed a faded OSU t-shirt and his smallest pair of drawstring sweatpants gently onto the bed. Holding up a finger to indicate that she should wait, Tony walked down the hall to his linen closet and reappeared with two fluffy, dark blue towels. He grinned.

"Eh, voila! Your shower awaits madame." Tony winked, because if he didn't he would have to hit something to get rid of the hatred pooling in his stomach for those who had hurt Ziva. His Ziva, though she didn't know it yet. But he wasn't going anywhere and he would show her how to feel safe and accept love again if it was the last thing he did.

Ziva's eyes softened, pushing back the haunted look for a moment. "Thank you Tony." She didn't have the words to say how much he was helping. Slowly she got off the bed, towels and extra clothes cradled in her arms, and walked to the bathroom.

"Sure," Tony replied, because that was all he could manage to say just then. She was thanking him? He was the reason she had those nightmares. If he hadn't killed Rivkin... Tony shook his head. He couldn't think like that. Ziva forgave him. But he would forever blame himself for the pain she'd gone through this summer.

When she had gone, he sank back down on the bed, his head in his hands. The clock said 3 am. They were four hours into their first night out of fourteen. He didn't know if he was strong enough to do this thirteen more times, to keep up the front for Ziva so she couldn't see how much he really cared. To wake her up from a dozen more nightmares and not be able to hold her afterwards and tell her everything was going to be okay.

And what about after her two week stay at his place was up? Did he want her moving on to Ducky's or McGee's or Gibbs' houses, letting someone else help her with her nightmares? No! Ziva was his responsibility now and more than anything Tony wanted to be the one who helped her heal. _Keep it together DiNozzo,_ he told himself, not that there was any other option.

The shower turned on full blast and Tony waited until he heard the door close before he moved. Out in the kitchen he filled the kettle and plugged it in, rummaging through his cupboards, hoping he still had the tea Ziva used to bring over for movie nights.

His fingers closed around the small, square tin at the back of his jam shelf and he set it out, along with milk, sugar, and a teaspoon, knowing how Ziva liked her tea. Back in his livingroom he stared unseeing at the movies lining the wall and crouched down to check a little used shelf at the bottom.

Once that was taken care of, Tony grabbed an extra blanket from his storage closet and finally sat down on the couch, so he didn't pace waiting for Ziva to finish. He closed his eyes, seeing Ziva while she was sleeping, if it could've been called that. These were uncharted waters for him and for her too, he suspected. Ziva was used to being in control of everything - her life, thoughts, emotions. But the dreams were something she couldn't do anything about and that probably scared her more.

Looking at his cellphone sitting on the table, Tony sighed and reached for it, hitting speed dial number two.

"Yeah, Gibbs," a groggy voice answered.

Tony could picture his boss laying on the basement floor under his boat. "Sorry to wake you Boss," he said heavily.

"Ziva okay?" Gibbs asked, instantly alert.

"No, she's not," Tony admitted. "She's having nightmares."

There was silence on the other end as Gibbs remembered what those kinds of dreams were like. "How bad?" he asked finally.

"Bad," Tony replied, his voice tight, unwilling to admit anymore.

Gibbs sighed. "I knew she wasn't sleeping well, it's in her eyes."

"Me too," Tony said, revealing how close he'd been watching her. "But I didn't know how bad it was. I'd be scared to sleep too." He paused. "What do I do Boss?"

"Don't let her sleep alone DiNozzo," Gibbs said firmly.

Tony swallowed hard. "Rule 12?" He had to know.

Gibbs' voice was gruff. "Doesn't apply when your partner has been tortured Tony. Make. Her. Feel. Safe," he issued the edict in a no questions or protests allowed tone.

Tony nodded resolutely. "Will do." He took a deep breath, feeling freedom from one thing that had held him back, but also fear, because he no longer had an excuse to hide his cowardice behind. "Thanks Boss."

"She's your partner Tony, your responsibility. That's an order." There was a click and Gibbs hung up.

Tony knew that was as close to permission as he'd ever get and he wasn't dumb enough to ask twice. He put the phone down and Ziva appeared from the hallway, looking small and fragile in his too large clothes. Tony nodded towards the kitchen.

"Water's boiled, though you might like some tea."

Smiling gratefully, Ziva fixed herself a cup and came back, sitting beside him, though not too close. Tony swung the extra blanket around her shoulders. The movement made Ziva flinch and she unconsciously turned her head and closed her eyes, as if expecting a blow, nearly upsetting her tea in her lap. Remorse filled Tony's features and he opened his mouth to apologize, but Ziva shook her head, knowing he hadn't meant to startle her. Giving her a long look, Tony sat back, pressing 'play' on the remote.

A familiar song filled the room and Ziva raised an eyebrow. "We are watching _Aladdin_?" she asked skeptically.

"Hey," Tony shrugged. "It's got magic, a big blue genie voiced by Robin Williams, and a flying carpet. What's not to like?" _It's also Disney, shouldn't do anything to induce nightmares, is relatively harmless for 0330...he _thought, continuing the list in his head.

Ziva saw what he was doing and how hard he was trying. Taking another drink of her tea, she focused on the screen and smiled a little. What was not to like indeed. For the moment this was just what she needed.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: My profuse apologies dear readers! I was in bed late last night after posting a chapter in my Jibbs fic and all of a sudden I was like, 'Oh no, it's Friday! I was supposed to update TWL!' So hopefully one day late hasn't made anyone considerably frustrated with me. Hope you like the chapter! See you guys again next week! Thanks for reading/reviewing! :D_

Ziva didn't even make it an hour into _Aladdin_ before her head nodded forward and her eyes fluttered, trying to stay open. Without trying to be obvious about it, Tony moved closer little by little so that when she finally did lose her battle to stay awake, Ziva's head came to rest lightly on his shoulder.

For several moments Tony barely breathed, feeling her chest rise and fall against his arm. When he was certain she was asleep, he slowly moved his arm around her back to support her, and slouched down a little to make it more comfortable for both of them.

Their backs would be killing them tomorrow but if this was how she got a peaceful night's sleep, Tony could endure a few sore muscles. Pressing the power button on the remote, Tony closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Ziva, safe and warm beside him. As he drifted off, he couldn't help uttering a silent prayer that Ziva would have no nightmares this time.

**NCIS**

When Ziva opened her eyes Tuesday morning, she was confused to find herself upright instead of laying down, and even more surprised to be snuggling against her partner's side. Tony was snoring softly with his mouth open slightly. She watched him for a moment, then stealthily moved away from him. But her ninja skills must've dulled a little because as soon as she was standing, Tony jerked in his sleep and his eyes opened.

"Ziva?" he asked, yawning and stretching. "Hey, are you okay?"

She fingered the edge of his t-shirt that she'd slept in. "I am fine."

Tony yawned again and checked his watch. "0530. You get up this early every morning?"

"I want to go for a run before work."

He looked her up and down skeptically. She'd been back half a month and was already back into running? What about her injuries? Not everything could've healed in two weeks. He'd seen her in Somalia and he was certain of that. Tony frowned.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe you should wait until-"

Ziva shook her head, cutting him off. "I spoke with Ducky yesterday. He cleared me to start running again if I go slowly and only one mile." She wrinkled her nose. "It is not very much."

"Sounds like enough for now," Tony said firmly. "Want me to come?"

Running in a strange neighbourhood or anywhere in the open made Ziva nervous. She shook her head. "I will take the bus into work and use the gym."

"Why take the bus?" Tony asked, getting up and cracking his back. "I've got a car."

"I do not think you were planning to go to work this early," Ziva pointed out.

Tony shrugged. "I'm sure I can find some paperwork to do." _Or I might fall asleep at my desk_, he thought, considering the options.

"I do not wish to be any trouble," Ziva tried to protest.

He held up his hand. "No trouble Zi. Let's just get dressed and grab a muffin or something on our way in." They both turned towards his room at the same time, exchanging awkward glances. "I'll just grab my clothes quick. Then it's all yours, promise." Ziva let him pass and waited until he came out with an armload of clothes. "Be ready in ten," Tony said, heading into the bathroom.

Back in Tony's room, Ziva unzipped her duffle bag and found the new workout clothes she had purchased just yesterday, almost as soon as Ducky said she could run again. Ziva needed to run. She wished she could run outside and feel the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, to feel free again. But nowhere except Tony's apartment felt safe right now, so she would have to run inside, on a treadmill, with no scenery flashing before her eyes.

Still, at least she would be moving, working the muscles that felt listless from lack of use. Although after having been tied to a chair for three months, she was lucky she could still walk when the team found her. Still, they had practically dragged her from the room and into the waiting helicopter. Ziva stopped her thoughts there. She did not wish to think of Somalia. She was in America now, she was home, and she just wanted to run.

**NCIS**

It was 0630 and Tony sat at his desk feeling like a zombie overdosed on caffeine. He needed to get his act together before Gibbs showed up. But he had a feeling he could pry his eyelids open with a crowbar right now and they still wouldn't stay that way.

If his calculations were correct, he and Ziva got a little over three and a half hours sleep total between last night and early this morning. What would he say when Gibbs came in and found him asleep at his desk, probably drooling all over his paperwork? _No wait, scratch that_, Tony thought. _DiNozzos most certainly do not drool. Very unbecoming_. He stood, stretched, and began pacing up and down the length of the squadroom. He had to stay awake somehow.

At 0645 the elevator doors opened and Gibbs got out, sipping his first coffee of the day. He stopped before entering the bullpen and watched Tony quietly. The man was so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn't even heard the ding. Gibbs frowned. His senior field agent was never at work before him. This could only mean something was wrong.

"Ziva?" Gibbs asked, worry making his voice rough.

Tony jumped and spun around to face Gibbs. "Oh, hey Boss." He scanned the room, looking for an answer. "This isn't-this isn't what is looks like."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow and went to his desk. "It looks like you pacing in the squadroom because things didn't go as planned last night and you're worried about your partner." Tony nodded once. "Where is she?"

He frowned. "In the gym. Ducky cleared her to run yesterday." Tony's tone blatantly stated his opinion of that particular diagnosis.

Gibbs' expression was neutral. "She needs to do something Tony."

"She's not okay Boss," Tony said, hurting when he remembered. "Ziva's really not okay."

The team leader met his agent's eyes. "She needs us to treat her like a person Tony, not a victim. Don't coddle her, help her feel normal again."

"How?" Tony asked helplessly.

"You'll know," Gibbs told him. Despite the jokes and the teasing, he knew Tony was the right man for this job. He loved Ziva and that would help her more than anything else, even if it was months before Tony got up the nerve to tell her.

Tony cast a glace at the elevator and checked his watch. He wanted to be there when Ziva came up, but there was someone else he needed to see before he was stuck at his desk all day.

"Gonna go see Abby," he told Gibbs, and walked towards the back elevator, looking over his shoulder one more time before he got in.

As Tony had expected, Abby was already down in her lab waking up her babies and preparing for the day. She stopped what she was doing when she saw him, looking at him nervously.

"How was your night?" she asked finally, concerned about how he'd dealt with Ziva's nightmares.

"Short," Tony answered quickly. He shook his head. "You weren't kidding about how bad they are."

Abby's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I was." He held out his arms and she gratefully accepted the hug. "Is she going to be okay Tony?" Abby's words were muffled against his shirt.

Tony held her tighter, keeping his voice light. "Yeah, she's going to be okay Abs." He closed his eyes, seeing the terrified look in Ziva's eyes when she woke up last night. "It just might take a little longer than we'd like."

Abby sighed. "I know."

He looked at her carefully. "Keep your chin up Abby. I'll see you later. Gotta go."

Back up in the bullpen Tony was relieved to see Ziva settled at her desk, but the uncertainty in her eyes when she looked at him threw him off. Apparently the awkwardness from this morning was lasting longer than he'd hoped. Tony tossed her a smile and turned his attention to McGee after seeing that Gibbs wasn't in the room.

"I heard Abby found herself a nice shoulder to cry on last night." He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Looks like you missed your chance, McLate."

Unlike what usually happened, McGee didn't even acknowledge the statement. That more than anything else made Tony wonder if his friend had finally done the right thing and taken Abby back like he should've years ago. He walked over and began sniffing the air around McGee.

Tim pushed him away and frowned. "What are you doing Tony?"

The senior field agent shrugged. "Just checking for any lingering eau de gunpowder perfume."

McGee glared at him, not his normal reaction. "Lay off Tony. If Abby wants you to know her secrets, she'll tell you herself."

Tony backed off, sensing that this wasn't the time to push. Tim hadn't been the same since they got back and Tony was still waiting for the return of his mild mannered, easily bullied, very teasable probie. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow.

**NCIS**

It turned out to be a very quiet day at the office, though Gibbs kept them busy going through old case files. At least it was something Ziva could help with while she waited for her status with the team and NCIS to be clarified. Eventually all three of them were sitting on the floor in the middle of the squadroom, sheets of paper and files spread out across the floor, each leaning against their own desk.

Gibbs had disappeared, presumably for more coffee, and both Tony and McGee had discarded their jackets as the temperature in the room rose. Ziva however, never even pushed up the sleeves of her wine coloured shirt. After awhile, McGee looked at her curiously.

"Isn't it a little warm for long sleeves Ziva?" he asked, not realizing there was a reason behind her choice.

Tony knew Ziva couldn't, wouldn't tell their friend what she was hiding under those sleeves. Even he wasn't sure. He snorted. "She grew up in a desert McForgetful, heat doesn't mean anything to our ninja. Summer here is winter temperatures in Israel. I'm surprised she'd not wearing a down jacket and shivering. Get your facts straight."

McGee was surprised at Tony's outburst and noted the appreciative look Ziva gave him a moment later. Something else was clearly going on here, but for now it looked like it needed to stay between Tony and Ziva, whatever 'it' was. Tim didn't mind being left out this time, not really. He knew what it was like to want to keep something between himself and another person. What was going on with him and Abby, for example, was something he wasn't ready to share with anyone else just yet either.

A few hours late when Gibbs had finally said the two words they'd been waiting to hear, "Go home,"Tony, Ziva, and McGee gathered up their things and headed for the elevator. Abby came bouncing over from the back one, joining their group and falling in beside McGee.

"Hey, you guys want to go out for a drink or something tonight?" she extended the invitation to all of them.

Tony caught the look in Ziva's eyes and knew instinctively that being around anyone she wasn't familiar with would make her nervous. He shook his head, answering for both of them.

"Thanks Abby, but not tonight. Ziva and I have take out and movie plans, hard to compete with that." He threw on his signature grin to cover up the other emotions. "You kids have fun though."

Abby understood almost immediately and nodded, but her eyes were sad. She looked at McGee. "Timmy, I forgot something in my lab. Come with me?"

McGee did so without protesting and Ziva smiled, happy for them. Tony was just glad for a couple minutes to be alone in the elevator with her. He leaned against one wall.

"So, Chinese tonight?"

Ziva nodded without looking at him. Tony really wished she would say something. He missed hearing her voice.

**NCIS**

The clock had almost reached seven pm when Tony and Ziva finally arrived back at his apartment with bags full of Chinese take out. Tony dropped everything on the counter and flopped onto the couch.

"Musical night Ziva," he announced. "And I've got all the classics."

Rolling her eyes, Ziva took it upon herself to unpack their food while Tony scoured his shelves for the movies he spoke of. When she reached into the cupboard for plates, Tony's voice stopped her.

"Just bring the cartons over Zi, then we won't have to do dishes later. Ooh, and don't forget a fork," he called as she closed the drawer holding one in her hand, "I don't do chopsticks."

Ziva carefully set the cartons on the coffee table, surveying the line up of films Tony had chosen. She frowned. "_Hairspray_? _Grease_? They have movies about hair products and car fluids?"

Tony's mouth fell open. "You've never heard of _Grease_ before, Ziva?"

She shrugged. "I have gotten it on my hands while sabotaging a car."

He winced. "Not exactly the same thing. But I won't try to explain, you'll just have to experience it for yourself."

They settled down on the couch and Tony turned the movie on. He couldn't really help himself, throwing random trivia in here and there. Like how old John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John had really been while playing high schoolers, or the fact that, for a while, it was the highest grossing movie behind _Jaws_ and _Star Wars: Episode IV._

Ziva stayed quiet and they both kept to their own cushions. They were still working on being comfortable with each other again. Tony wished it was a quicker process. He wanted them to be lounging on the couch together like they used to, not even noticing if they happened to touch accidentally or on purpose. But he had a feeling if he tried that now Ziva would either jump or hit him, he wasn't sure which.

She ate slowly, picking out all the vegetables in her chow mein first, then the chicken, eating each crunchy bean sprout separately. Ziva did not really see the appeal of the movie at the beginning, but by the middle she was getting into the music and she even smiled at the big dance-off.

Tony, who never stopped checking on Ziva frequently, was glad to see his choice was a hit.

**NCIS**

A couple hours later and only two movies into the four he'd picked, Tony noticed Ziva's blinking was getting slower as her body started to relax into the exhaustion she was obviously feeling. Tony was beginning to need some sleep himself, not used to being up as early as they had been that morning.

He paused the movie. "Bedtime," Tony announced cheerfully.

Ziva looked up. "What?"

Tony smiled. "Going to bed early isn't going to kill us Ziva."

She nodded slowly, but a somber mood hung over them while they brushed their teeth and put on pyjamas. It was impossible to forget what last night had looked like and neither was anxious for a repeat. They met in the hallway, regarding each other carefully.

Tony wished he could hug Ziva good night or touch her in a friendly way for reassurance, something they both needed. But she'd been keeping a safe distance between them all day, ever since she'd woken up beside him that morning. Her smile barely lifted the corner of her lips.

"Good night Tony."

He nodded. "'Night Ziva."

Tony headed straight for his bed on the couch and collapsed, deciding to sleep while he could, knowing that in an hour or two or three he'd probably be up again, but still hoping Ziva would have a peaceful sleep for once. Just thinking her name conjured up the image of Ziva laying in his bed and Tony sighed. Her in his bed and him on the couch was not exactly what he used to think about when he was sleeping. But he knew now that she deserved so much more than what he used to hope for.

Down the hall Ziva was indeed laying in Tony's bed, trying not to fall asleep. During her time in Somalia she had come to dread the night hours. In the darkness of her cell they had come to her, nameless and faceless, restraining her while other men did things that hurt and shamed her.

The torture was one thing, that she could withstand for the most part, but this was something else. In some ways it was worse than the beatings. Their actions violated not only her body, but her soul. Still, she'd been glad for the black of the darkness, because they never saw the tears that escaped to drip silently into the dust.

Struggling to stay awake, Ziva counted the seconds until minutes became an hour. But she couldn't keep it up forever. No matter how much she dreaded falling asleep and the dreams that would follow, her eyes finally betrayed her and fell closed and Ziva lacked the strength to force them open again. Sleep soon found her and much later, so did the dreams.

**NCIS**

It was earlier this time, 0200 when Tony heard the first scream and rushed into his room, trying to wake Ziva, aching to hold her. He got behind her on the bed, calling her name, his arms around her immediately, anticipating the struggle before she awoke completely.

For one sacred moment after she opened her eyes, Ziva relaxed against Tony. In that moment when she forgot that she could not be that close to a man, she felt cared for and safe. Then reality crashed in on both of them and Ziva's whole body stiffened and she pulled away from Tony. She sat in the middle of the bed, shivering in the aftermath of her battle with invisible enemies, not meeting his eyes.

Tony sighed. So far this looked like last night all over again. He hated what the dreams did to Ziva, and wished he had the courage to ask her about them. Instead he took in her appearance and frowned.

"Ziva, you're soaked." She was in his clothes as pyjamas again, the light gray of his t-shirt turned dark with the sweat that had poured off her of while she slept. "Why don't you take a shower," he kept trying even when she shook her head, "just a quick one, so you feel clean again. Then come out to the livingroom. Okay?"

She didn't even nod, but because she didn't say no, Tony took her silence as a yes. Her towels from last night were still in the bathroom and he walked her all the way to the door this time, wishing she would look him in the eyes so he could see how she was doing. But that would make her too vulnerable and the nightmare had already stripped her of her defenses. He wouldn't push her anymore tonight.

Once the door was closed, Tony leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath as he collected his tattered emotions. Then he walked to the closet in the hall where his apartment sized washer and dryer set was kept, and reached into the dryer for Ziva's 'Shannon' pyjamas, which had been put in the wash before they left this morning.

He took them back into his room and laid them on the bed, moving to the kitchen on auto-pilot to put water on to boil and get out the things Ziva needed to make tea. _Sound of Music_ went in the DVD player and Tony made sure there was an extra blanket waiting for her on the couch. He wasn't sure how he knew that Ziva would be cold when she came out, he just did. She always was after the dreams.

His houseguest appeared not too many minutes later, and by then he was able to smile at her. She had an orange mug cradled in her hands and Tony held out the blanket to her first this time, so she knew what he was going to do. He didn't want to startle her again.

When she was settled, Tony pressed play. "We never even got to the best one," he grinned.

But Ziva knew he hated her favourite movie and wondered why he was doing this for her. It bothered her for several minutes before she spoke to him for one of the first times that day.

"Why are you doing this Tony?"

About to jump in with a non-serious answer, Tony looked into Ziva's eyes and realized this was not the time to be joking around. So he told her the truth, the same one from Somalia. "Can't live without you, I guess." It was on the tip of Ziva's tongue to say that was not an answer, but Tony headed off her protest.

"Let me show you that I've grown up a little since you left Zi. I just want to help."

Ziva shook her head sadly, eyes empty again. It was the same loss of purpose, like she had no reason for living, that he'd seen sitting with her in the dusty terror camp cell. He hated that expression. Looking at her now, he felt like he was losing her all over again.

"I am afraid you are wasting your time Tony," she said, eyes turned towards the uncurtained window across the room. "There is nothing that can help. I would not have you go to so much trouble for something that cannot be fixed."

"It's a good thing I didn't ask you then," he muttered, pretending he hadn't heard her because he didn't like where her head was at.

Ziva thought she was being honest, Tony thought she was giving up. Well, Ziva was going to get his help whether she wanted it or not. He'd already lost her once and he'd be darned if he let her go again. No need to tell her that though. It was his hope that she would figure it out all by herself.

They both turned their attention back to the movie and didn't speak again. Ziva made it to 'Favourite Things' before her head drooped forward. Tony paused the movie, not willing to spend another night sleeping sitting up on the couch. They both needed a real sleep desperately.

"Okay Sleeping Beauty," he declared, "time to hit the hay." Ziva looked confused but Tony just shook his head. "I stop explaining idioms after 0300 Ziva. It would only make less sense now."

He held out a hand, trying to help her stand up, but Ziva shrank from his touch and Tony did not want to think about the reasons, even if he knew they'd have to talk about it eventually. When he can't help but let his mind drift into the 'whys', it makes him sick to think of the reality that had caused Ziva to not allow herself to be touched by anyone.

Tony walked her to the door of his bedroom and gave her a half-grin. "I could tuck you in," he offered. At Ziva's sharp look, he held up his hands. "I mean that in the most innocent way you can take it," he said. But even with his explanation, Tony could see the immediate fear in Ziva's eyes as she shook her head at him and forced a smile.

"I will be fine. Thank you, Tony."

Fine? If this was what she called fine, she was definitely up a creek without a paddle. She was most definitely not 'fine'. And Tony realized that he couldn't let her pretend anymore. Another night like this would break the both of them. There had to be a way that they could both get some sleep. Then an idea crawled into his head and Tony smiled. It might just work.

**NCIS**

Ziva had just settled down and found a comfortable position when she heard a knock on the door and Tony slipped into the room carrying a pile of sleeping bags and blankets. Without a word, he calmly proceeded to make up a nice, thick pallet on the floor near the window, several feet away from his bed. She frowned and propped herself up on one elbow.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

He turned around, considering her. "Can I sleep in here? It's too dark in the livingroom. I'm not a huge fan of the dark."

Ziva raised one eyebrow and Tony held up his hands. "I know, I know, the great Tony DiNozzo doesn't usually admit a weakness, especially to a beautiful woman, but you may as well know now."

"Tony..." Ziva started, but the look in his eyes said he needed this just as much as she knew she did, even if she could not admit it. So she merely nodded and laid back down

Tony lowered himself to the floor. "Gee, my back is going to love this," he muttered, thinking she wouldn't hear. But Ziva still had her old Mossad instincts and she did hear.

"We could trade," she offered. "I do not feel right taking your bed and I have slept on the floor before."

"No, no," he winced, shifting, "it's all good. The floor is my new favourite place to sleep, really."

"You are sure?" she asked again.

"Very," he said firmly. "I may stay here after you leave I like it so much."

Ziva shook her head. _Liar_, she thought. But he was capable of being sweet, she'd give him that.

Tony got as comfortable as he could on the floor and stayed awake to watch Ziva fall asleep, before he let himself relax. For some reason, Ziva felt better because Tony was there and she smiled a little as she closed her eyes, the thoughts in her head less dark for once.

**NCIS**

As much as Tony had hoped it, his presence was not enough to stop the nightmares. An hour or two later Tony was replaying his time in that dusty desert room, Ziva sitting across from him with no life in her eyes, telling him that she had gotten over herself, that she was ready to die. He was getting ready to argue some sense back into her when a noise pulled him from the scene in his dream.

He sat up suddenly when the noise was repeated and Tony realized it was coming from Ziva. She jerked on the bed, whimpering again deep in her throat. Her restless moving brought back the advice Abby had given him and he jumped up, desperate to intervene before her dream got worse.

Ziva woke as soon as Tony touched her, but she allowed again the brief moment when he held her close and whispered against her hair words she could never quite make out. Too soon she was shifting away from him, offering a tight smile in the light of the bedside lamp to disguise her distress.

Tony's hands had never hurt her, but Ziva could not help comparing them to the ones that had. She flinched when he squeezed her shoulder, her mind drawn for one terrible moment back to her cell in Somalia, the memories of other men's hands gripping her body as they held her down. Because they had never seen her tears, they had never seen her weak, and in the morning she was again the emotionless Mossad assassin. But when they left, Ziva would curl into a small ball, quivering on the hard dirt floor, wishing for death to come swiftly, though it never did.

Knowing her better than she realized, Tony sensed that Ziva was not quite with him, but when he put his hand out towards her, Ziva held her own hand up.

"Stop," she ordered softly. "Please do not." She could not keep the quaver out of her voice. It was all she could do not to start hyperventilating when he reached for her. But it helped some that he did not force the issue and touch her without permission.

"Zi?" he asked quietly after several moments had gone by. He was afraid for wherever her mind was.

Ziva shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the images she could never erase. "Please," she begged, hating that what she wanted the most she could not have.

Tony backed off, the hurt inside him almost overwhelming as he returned to his place on the floor, his eyes never leaving the bed while he was forced to watch her suffer alone. Why couldn't she let him help? And what would he do if Ziva never let him touch her again, if she was always afraid of him? He rolled over, unable to watch what the memories were doing to her. Tony thought her torture had been over when they brought her home from Somalia. Now he found himself wondering if it would ever end.


	4. Chapter 4

On Wednesday morning Ziva woke up early again, but whether it was from habit or fear of something bad happening because she was vulnerable when she was sleeping was hard to say. She sat up and looked at Tony, who was flaked out on his mattress of blankets, sheet kicked down to the end, mouth open and hair sticking up like a...porcupine. Ziva smiled briefly, remembering the first time she'd compared Tony to the spiky little animal her first morning on the team.

She got out of bed, planning to get ready, but there must've been something in her movement that disturbed her partner because he opened bleary eyes and stared at her confusedly.

"Ziva?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. "What's wrong? What time is it?"

She shrugged. "It is time to go for a run."

Tony groaned and shut his eyes again. "You really have to stop getting up before 0600. There oughta be a rule against it."

Ziva raised one eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. "A rule against not being lazy? Is that written somewhere?"

He frowned. "I said it should be." Stretching, he finally sat up, wincing and rubbing his back. Ziva refrained from making a comment, he clearly wasn't willing to listen to reason about why he should sleep on the couch, or better yet, his bed. She didn't like the way he was watching her, his eyes scrutinizing her face and appearance, as if expecting to find cracks somewhere, or a sign that she was about to break.

"What, Tony?" she asked sharply.

"Huh?" Tony asked. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering what's taking you so long." He stood up in his pyjama pants and white undershirt. "I'll be ready in five."

Ziva eyed him back. "Ready for what?"

"Well, you're going for a run, right? So that means you need a ride. And since I had so much fun sleeping on my desk yesterday, I was thinking I'd take you in today too."

"I do not need a babysitter Tony," Ziva replied, slightly frustrated with his need to keep an eye on her at all times.

Tony knew he could easily argue that statement but wasn't awake enough yet to deal with a riled former assassin. He just shrugged. "Look, car's leaving in eight minutes. You want a ride, you're welcome to it."

Since he didn't leave her much to argue with, Ziva watched silently as Tony gathered his clothes and headed for the bathroom down the hall. She quickly packed what she needed and put her hair in a low ponytail. Seven minutes later Ziva met him at the door and they walked out together. She guessed that there could be some things worse than having a friend who was always watching her back.

**NCIS**

It was mid-afternoon before the team got a case and Ziva watched longingly as they left. Stuck at a desk, restricted by the limitation of one whose status with the agency had yet to be clarified, and her current physical condition, the former Mossad Liaison felt extremely useless.

The day had already been long, though Gibbs and her teammates had tried their best to keep her occupied. She had been copying files, running errands, and organizing paperwork since the moment Gibbs had entered the building. And while it was nice to not be sitting around wondering what to do, she was not feeling particularly needed.

Just before Ziva's thoughts slipped into the realm of self-pity, which she had tried very hard not to indulge in, a familiar figure rounded the corner into the bullpen. Abby grinned and hurried forward to wrap Ziva in a hug. Though it had been years, the Israeli still had not gotten used to the force with which the Goth delivered her hugs. She patted the black-haired girl's back lightly until Abby released her.

"Ziva! You look lonely," Abby declared. "Do you want to come down to the lab?" She rolled her eyes. "I am bored out of my mind until the guys get back with some evidence for me to work on."

Since she had no way of escaping the invitation, Ziva nodded and stood to follow her friend downstairs. Once in the lab, Abby spun one of the stools around and offered it to Ziva. She perched on it, unsure of what the girl expected. It had been a long time since she and Abby had been friends, a long time since they had any time for 'girl talk' or the 'girl's nights out' that the forensic scientist delighted in. Her whole life had changed in the last four months and who she had been before seemed to be a lifetime away from who she was now. Ziva was not sure if she was capable of being a friend anymore.

For once, Abby respected the silence that filled her lab. Taking the other stool, she twisted it around backwards and sat on it, resting her arms on the back and watching Ziva. She didn't know what to say, what questions to ask or not to ask, but she wanted Ziva to know that she cared, that she would be there no matter how long it took for her friend to feel normal again. If such a thing as normal still existed in Ziva's world.

Playing with one of her braids, Abby finally looked over at the Israeli woman, who was uncomfortably trying to figure out what came next. So she said the one thing she thought might bring a smile.

"Timmy and I miss you," Abby said softly. "It's so much more fun to have three people around to watch a movie or play a game with."

Ziva met Abby's eyes at last, surprise showing in them. "You and McGee?" she inquired, the question she wanted to ask coming through clearly in her tone.

Abby's cheeks coloured a little and she looked down, not able to keep the smile off her face. "Ever since that first night Ziva," she said softly.

"He has stayed since I left," Ziva clarified, stating it as a fact rather than asking.

The Goth nodded and shrugged. "I feel safe with Tim there Ziva, after two weeks I didn't know how to sleep without him."

"So are you...?" Ziva left the sentence open ended, letting Abby finish it if she wanted.

She bit her lip. "We haven't decided what to call it yet. But where there used to be nothing, there's something. When we used to be best friends, now we're more."

Ziva started to reach out towards her friend, and then hesitated. Abby waited while she made up her mind, and finally the Israeli's hand rested lightly on Abby's arm. The black haired girl didn't know it, but that simple touch was a huge step for Ziva. Still, it was between two women, with no men in sight. There were many barriers yet to overcome.

"I am happy for you, Abby," Ziva said simply.

Abby's eyes shadowed, even as her heart warmed at the words. "Are you sleeping Ziva?"

Knowing she could not hide anything from the forensic scientist, Ziva sighed. "I am trying."

Abby frowned, her eyebrows creasing together. "The nightmares?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"And Tony?" Abby asked.

Ziva thought about the question and the many ways it could apply. She struggled with how much to share. "I am grateful," she began, "that he tries to rescue me from them." She shook her head. "But Tony does not know what they are like, and he thinks he can fix them."

Abby tilted her head to the side. "Don't write him off just yet Ziva. Give Tony a chance. He cares about you. Who knows?" she shrugged. "Maybe that will help more than anything else."

Ziva could not afford to get her hopes up, did not want to think about how much Tony cared. He could not see yet how broken she was. But when he did, she knew he would never want to be anything more than her friend. For now, it was enough.

**NCIS**

Several hours later, Tony and Ziva finally dragged themselves through the door of his apartment. The case they'd gotten earlier had gotten complicated, and Gibbs had finally had to concede to giving up for the night, hoping fresh eyes in the morning would help them find the leads they needed to catch a murderer.

Dropping their stuff, they both headed for Tony's room, and then for separate bathrooms as they cleaned up and got changed into something more comfortable than work clothes. They'd only just gotten comfortable on the couch when the buzzer rang. Tony groaned and struggled back to his feet, pressing the button to let whoever it was in.

Ziva raised an eyebrow. "You should ask first who is there, no?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "At eleven o'clock at night Ziva, the only person ringing my bell better be bearing pizza."

There was a knock at the door before she could argue with him and Tony threw her a triumphant grin when he looked through the peephole and confirmed it was the delivery guy. A minute later he slid the warm cardboard box onto the coffee table and went to the kitchen for plates. They both took some of the hot, gooey pizza, though Tony's plate was piled substantially higher than Ziva's.

Tony took one bite, groaned in pleasure, and then sat straight up. "Something is missing."

Ziva leaned over to glance at the pizza. "It looks like everything you asked for Tony."

"I don't mean from the pizza Zi, I mean here." He looked towards the blank screen of the TV. "Aha! No movie. Okay David, what's your pleasure tonight?"

Although she was rather enjoying the silence, Ziva understood that Tony felt bereft with nothing to entertain him, so she gave the idea some serious consideration. "We could watch some of those old gray movies," she suggested finally.

Tony wrinkled his nose and grinned. "I think you mean black and white Ziva."

She shook her head. "They are mostly gray."

"But they're called black and..." Tony shook his head. "You know what, never mind. Gray movies it is. Let's see what we've got here."

He stood up, taking his pizza with him, and whisked three movies off the shelves within seconds. If Ziva's choice surprised him, he chose not to comment about it. When he was satisfied, he dropped back onto the couch cushion and spread out the selection to choose from in the space between them.

"Alright Ziva, we've got one Charlie Chaplin flick, one of the best ever Three Stooges movies, and last,_ The Ghost and Mr. Chicken_, but only if you're feeling brave," he warned. "Sorry, I refuse to sit through _Gone With the Wind_."

Ziva shrugged. "I have seen it in Hebrew. I fell asleep," she confessed. She pointed to the Three Stooges DVD, ready for some comedy after the long day.

If Tony noticed that Ziva only picked at her pizza, he didn't say anything. But anything that wasn't normal worried him and he wished he knew what to do. There was no handbook for how to help someone heal after they were betrayed by both father and profession and sent to die on a suicide mission.

Nothing told him how to make her nightmares go away after she'd been tortured, or how to comfort her when she wouldn't let him touch her. Whatever road they were on now, Tony knew he was in it for the long haul. But he could also see just from the past two days that it was going to be a long, long time before anything felt remotely normal again.

**NCIS**

They called it a night after one movie, because being let out of work late did not mean they got to sleep in the next morning. Gibbs still expected them to be there at 0700, ready to work. Ziva was laying in bed, half an hour into her attempts at staying awake, when Tony poked his head in the door. She leaned up on her elbows.

"Is something wrong Tony?"

He shrugged. "The couch is feeling extra lumpy tonight, I think it's getting old. So I was kind of hoping you wouldn't mind if I slept in here again."

Ziva stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. Tony threw her a smile before walking over to his makeshift mattress and settling down, sighing as if in relief when what he was really thinking was that it really wasn't that comfortable.

But Tony wasn't willing to wait until her nightmares reached the worst part before he started sleeping in the same room. He wanted to be able to catch them before they did too much damage. And neither of them could take much more of the constant sleep deprivation anyways.

Closing his eyes, Tony let his body relax and his breathing even out. He got the feeling Ziva watched him for a long time before she too let sleep try and come, but he didn't feel the need to explain himself just yet. Still, Tony hoped that tonight would not be as bad as their first two nights. They really needed a break.

**NCIS**

It was almost four am before a nightmare finally took hold of Ziva, which was more sleep at one time than either of them had gotten in days. Tony was awakened by Ziva's moans, and the quiet words that escaped her lips. He heard her soft cries of, "No, please do not," "Stop, leave me alone," and, "I do not know, please," and wished they didn't bring up images in his head of what they might've done, how they tried to break her.

Slipping from his bed, Tony knelt beside Ziva and smoothed her hair back. "Zi, it's okay. Shh, it's okay, you're safe. Come on, wake up Ziva, please."

He whispered the words into her ear but Ziva didn't respond. So Tony slid an arm under her and sat on the bed with her in his lap, cradling her body against his. As soon as his arms closed around her, Ziva awoke with a start, her wild eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape. He could see the exact moment reality flooded in and felt her body sag against his when she realized there was no danger here.

Flicking on the bedside lamp, Tony waited for their eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. He moved before she asked him to and though it killed him to leave her, the last thing Tony wanted was for Ziva to feel threatened by his nearness. He reached on the top of his dresser for his clothes that Ziva had used as pyjamas. Turning towards her, he was surprise to see her shake her head.

"What Ziva?" he asked. There was no use in asking what was wrong, that much was obvious.

"I do not want a shower Tony, and it is too late for another movie."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Okay, what do you want to do? I have cards," he suggested after a moment's thought.

Ziva didn't crack a smile. "I will sleep. That is what we do at night, is it not?"

It seemed irrelevant to point out the fact that she wasn't sleeping, and every time she tried they wound up right back where they started. He tried to think of something else, anything that might make her forget why she didn't want to close her eyes. But sometimes Tony didn't have all the right answers.

"We could talk," he suggested at last. "Just for awhile." He didn't realize how much he was hoping she'd say yes until Ziva lay down again, stifling his hopes.

"No thank you," she said stiffly. "Good night Tony."

Baffled, because this was a change from the first two nights, Tony made his way back to his own sleeping place and stretched out on the top blanket. Glancing over at Ziva, he saw that she had her back towards him, but even the dim light in the room was not enough to keep him from noticing the tremors that rippled through her slight frame every few seconds. Tony knew there was no way Ziva was actually going back to sleep.

He felt helpless, just laying there, because at least before he could do something that made him feel useful, but tonight she wouldn't even let him try to help. Rolling onto his side, Tony turned away from the sight of his partner trying to be brave, trying to be strong, trying to escape something she had no control over. There were some things he just couldn't watch.


	5. Chapter 5

Ziva waited until she was certain that Tony was asleep again, then she slipped silently out of bed, got dressed, and gathered her things without making a single sound. The training that had been meant to keep her safe from enemies, was now being used to protect her from the man who just wanted to be her friend. Before leaving she scribbled a note for Tony and left it on the bed. The last thing she wanted was for him to worry more.

She waited until she was outside the building before phoning for a taxi, though Ziva waited in the entry, between two sets of glass doors, not wanting to be out in the open where she was vulnerable. Security at NCIS recognized her and barely glanced at her temporary pass. Stepping into the elevator, she pushed the button for the basement level where the training gym was housed.

Already in her workout clothes, Ziva wasted no time taking over one of the treadmills in the far right side of the room. Not bothering with a warm-up, she put the speed up until she was running full out, needing the release of pushing her body, of doing more than she thought she could. More than others thought she should.

The nightmare that had woken her little more than an hour before still clung to her subconscious. Reliving the tortures they had inflicted on her, convinced while inside the dream that they were real and still happening, was always the worst. She had not meant to be rude to Tony when she woke up, but neither could she bear his kindness. He did not know what they had done, nor how damaged she really was. Those who got too close always ended up hurt, and for once she did not wish him to be one of them.

**NCIS**

Tony opened his eyes, immediately on alert even though he couldn't place what woke him. He lay still for a moment, sleep still heavy on his mind, listening for sounds in his apartment that would signal trouble. Only silence met his ears and he let himself relax, perhaps it was a false alarm.

Rolling over, he checked on Ziva, hoping she was able to get back to sleep, but not sure she would've tried. The bed was empty. His heartrate escalated and Tony jumped up to check the bathroom. It too was just an abandoned room. His gut was screaming at him now that something was wrong and he was on his way out to the livingroom when something on the sheets caught his eyes. A note.

He reached for it, frowning. The note was simple, only a few words. _Tony, I have gone to the gym._ Nothing more. Tony crumpled the piece of paper in frustration. She couldn't just leave! He needed to be with her, he needed to make sure she was okay. Without a second thought, he hastily got dressed and grabbed his keys, heading out the door minutes later with only one destination in mind.

**NCIS**

Less than twenty minutes after Ziva had arrived, Tony came bursting through the gym doors.

"What the heck did you think you were doing, leaving like that?" he yelled.

Ziva stepped off the treadmill, showing emotion for one of the first times. "I do not need your permission to leave the apartment Tony."

"You're my responsibility Ziva!" Tony said hotly, wondering why she didn't get it.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "No!" she shouted. "I did not ask to become anyone's burden. Leave me alone. I just want to run."

Tony caught her hand as she turned around and she tried to wrench it from his grip, panic flaring in her eyes when he didn't let go.

"You're not a burden Ziva," he said softer, wanting her to hear the truth. "No one thinks about you that way." He released her hand, not wanting to see the look in her eyes last any longer.

"No one but me," Ziva replied, the fight gone out of her. She walked towards the treadmill again and did not once turn her head to look back at him.

Tony slowly retreated from the room, leaving both of them hurting and frustrated without really knowing why. It just seemed that everything was coming crashing down. Trying to forget the concern in her partner's eyes, Ziva ran ten minutes longer than she'd planned. Her muscled were aching and her lungs struggling to recover when she finally got off the machine. But nothing had changed and she dreaded facing Tony when she went up to work.

**NCIS**

Two hours later the bullpen was silent, clicking keys and squeaky chairs the only noises filling the air. Ziva had felt Tony's eyes on her since the moment she'd come up from downstairs, but she had not known what to do about it. Finally she looked up, meeting his gaze, trying to convey with her eyes that she was sorry for their earlier argument. Her heart lifted when Tony's signature half-grin appeared on his face again and she knew she was forgiven.

For the first time since she'd returned, Ziva began making fun of Tony again, teasing him just as she always had. Her partner leapt at the opportunity, smiling cockily and giving the banter right back. It was their way of making amends, to go back to what was normal and familiar and what worked for them.

And it felt like old times, that was the best part. If they didn't hold each other's eyes too long, they didn't see the shadows and the scars weren't visible. As long as they focused on the words, the tone, the inflection, the implied meaning, they didn't have to remember how far away from normal life still was. But they took their chances with what they had right now, because this moment was all they had to hold on to.

**NCIS**

Tony DiNozzo was bored. It was 1700, they didn't have a case, and he was sick of playing Solitaire. He shot his gaze across the bullpen at McGee, and surreptitiously crumpled up a scrap piece of paper and tossed it, aiming right for the side of his teammate's head.

The ball of paper bounced off McGee and rolled to a stop on the floor a foot from the trash can. Tony grinned. "Victory!" he declared, trying again with another piece of paper.

McGee turned around and glared at him. "Will you cut that out? I'm trying to get some work done here."

Tony pulled a face. "I'm sorry McStudious, and just what am I interrupting?" He worked on his next ball of paper but Ziva called his name just before he threw it and it ricocheted off the side of McGee's chair.

"You missed," Ziva pointed out gleefully as he shot her a dirty look.

"You threw off my shot," he protested.

"If you were a better aim, you would have hit your target even with a distraction."

"If you hadn't said something, I'd be three for three right now, Zee-vah!" Tony spit out, no venom behind his words.

"If you don't find something constructive to do I'm going to give Palmer your desk," Gibbs declared from behind him.

"The Autopsy Gremlin, really Boss?" Tony asked, then ducked to try to avoid the inevitable headslap.

Ziva got a glare instead of a smack, Gibbs knew better than to try too touch her too much yet. But as much as he maintained the scowl, when he looked around the room at his agents - Tim now trying to divert Tony's attention to something other than using him for target practice, Tony and Ziva engaged in the friendly banter that used to drive him nuts six months ago, Gibbs was grateful to have some normalcy. For a moment he had his team back, and he began to hope that it might actually happen someday. They just had a lot of healing to do first.

**NCIS**

Ziva chose Greek food for their fourth supper as roommates and Tony agreed, ordering in everything but the salad, which she insisted on making herself. Tony tried to snitch a bit out of the bowl as she was putting it together and Ziva glared him into retreating. Once the rest of the food had arrived and they sat down on the couch with full plates, Tony took a bite of his salad, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"What did you do to this salad Ziva?" he asked.

She frowned. "Is something wrong?" She took another bite just to be sure.

"No!" Tony shook his head. "It's amazing! Where did you learn to do that?"

Ziva shrugged. "I was undercover in Greece for several missions. One of my identities was a sous chef at a fancy restaurant. I suppose I picked up a few trips of the trade there."

"Tricks," he corrected without teasing. "And I'm glad you did. I've never tasted Greek salad like this before."

"What are we watching tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.

Tony grinned. "Sports movies!" he announced with flourish. "We've got _Remember the Titans_ - a fine moment for Denzel Washington, _Goal_, and _The Game Plan_." He chuckled. "The Rock plays a little girl's dad. It's pretty funny."

Ziva's forehead wrinkled. "The Rock? Is that not a large stone?"

"You don't know who The Rock is Ziva?" Tony asked stunned.

She shrugged. "Is he important?"

He groaned. "He's only one of the most well-know WWE wrestlers! How can you not know him?"

"I do not watch TV Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, tonight I will treat you to The Rock in a Disney movie. It's gonna be awesome!"

"If you say so," Ziva replied, completely unconvinced.

Tony pressed play and they sat back on the couch, content to enjoy the rest of their evening.

**NCIS**

It was ten o'clock before they decided to call it a night. Half an hour later as Ziva was in the middle of running through the alphabet in every language she knew, a tap on the door brought her eyes up to meet Tony's.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Umm, this is going to sound really dumb, but the clock in the livingroom is ticking really loud and it's driving me nuts. I was hoping you wouldn't mind too much if I slept in here tonight."

The ghost of a smile touched Ziva's lips and a single nod gave her consent. Tony grinned in relief, though the voice in his head chastised him.

_The clock is ticking? Really DiNozzo? That's the best you can come up with? You could've just taken the battery out._

_Yes_, Tony agreed, _except that would ruin my need to sleep on the floor beside her_.

Settling down, Tony was finally able to close his eyes and relax, knowing he was close enough now to help if she needed him, even if Ziva didn't think she needed anyone's help.

Less than two hours later and far sooner than Tony had hoped, because he wanted so badly for her to sleep without dreaming just one night, Ziva was again thrashing on the bed, though this time her mumblings were incoherent and in what he assumed was Hebrew.

He crossed the floor and sat beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his added weight. Hating that he had to do what he knew would scare her until she woke up, Tony used one arm to pin Ziva against him, the other hand brushing back her hair as he spoke quietly into her ear.

"Wake up Ziva, come on, wake up. It's okay, you're safe."

Ziva's breathing slowed as Tony continued to whisper the words to her, and after another minute her eyes fluttered open. "Tony?" she asked, her voice sounding small and scared, something he never would've said about her before Somalia.

"I'm here Zi," he reassured her.

She brought her hands up to grasp his arm and curled her body into him. Grateful for the trust she was showing, Tony held her, hoping to make her feel safe. The contact only lasted a minute or so, until Ziva woke up enough to remember. But she wasn't quite as quick to move away this time and it gave Tony hope that perhaps it wouldn't always be so bad.

"I am fine, Tony," Ziva said too soon, and he knew she needed him to let go. He did, but stayed close.

Tony tucked a stray curl behind her ear and Ziva stiffened but tried not to jerk away. She had to keep reminding herself that Tony would not hurt her, that every person who got too close was not going to cause her pain. It was a slow process to re-teach her mind, to unlearn everything that being held captive had taught her.

"You're not fine Zi," he told her seriously.

She looked away. "Right now it is all I have."

He observed her with sad eyes. "I want so much more for you."

Against her will, Ziva felt tears coming and she blinked furiously. She would not cry in front of Tony. Just like in the camp, she would not let any of them see her cry.

"You should not care so much," she warned him.

Tony shook his head. "You can't make me stop. You're my partner Zi, I'll always have your back."

He left her to think about his words. These moments in the dark of night with shadows of memories all around them were the only times Tony could be completely honest, the only time he didn't have to hide how he felt.

"Goodnight Ziva," he whispered into the quiet room, wondering if this would be her only rude awakening tonight.

**NCIS**

Hopes do not always work out. It wasn't much past three am when Tony jerked awake, suddenly aware that he'd been sleeping too deeply, because Ziva's quiet moans and restless movements had already become whimpers and more violent struggles.

The first scream hit him before he even got out of bed and Tony wanted to cover his ears to block out the desperate sound. Anxious to wake her, he put his hand on her shoulder and Ziva immediately cowered. Whatever was going on in her head, Tony knew that she would not recognize him when she woke up.

But the seconds ticked by and though Tony tried what he could - brushing back her hair, whispering comfort, gently shaking her - Ziva didn't wake up and it was starting to scare him because the longer she stayed asleep, the more intense her screams and battle got. Getting up, he walked to the door and flipped on the lights, squinting at the sudden brightness.

"Ziva," he said, and for a moment she stilled as if his voice had gotten through, but then her fight continued.

Tony moved a few steps closer, repeating her name louder. "Ziva!" Again it looked as though she listened but she continued to be trapped by her nightmare.

Detesting the fact that he would have to startle her awake, Tony moved closer to the bed. "Ziva!" he yelled, and to his relief her eyes snapped open.

He was at her side in a second, pulling her against him, countering her movements until she was fully awake. Like before, Ziva's pyjamas were drenched in sweat but he ignored the sticky feeling as her back rested against his chest, leaving a damp spot on his shirt.

"Ziva?" Tony asked, moving his fingers up and down her arm in a gentle caress.

She sighed, aware now. "I am tired of this Tony."

He hugged her before sitting back and giving her some space. "I know."

Ziva really was a mess. Damp clothes, messy, matted hair, dark circles under her eyes, her face drawn and tired. Her breathing was still ragged as the dream clung to her, fear colouring her expression even though he was not a threat. Last night she hadn't wanted his help. Maybe tonight she would let him try.

"Take a quick shower Ziva, I'll get you a cup of tea. You need to calm down or you'll never be able to go back to sleep," Tony suggested.

Too worn out to argue and thinking that maybe it would help a little, Ziva took the clothes and fresh towels Tony offered and headed to the bathroom. Going off memory, Tony waited until the water boiled and set about fixing the hot drink Ziva needed.

He met her back in the bedroom. Ziva was in his clothes again, her hair wet and wavy. He gave her the tea in exchange for her old pyjamas, which were tossed into the wash to be worried about later. When he returned, Ziva was sitting against the headboard, sipping her tea. Tony knew by the way she forced herself to stay alert that she didn't want to close her e yes. So he settled cross-legged on his bed of blankets and did what he did best - talk.

"When I was twelve, Dad sent me to this really straight laced boarding school, one of the many I managed to get kicked out of, by the way."

Ziva started to look interested so Tony continued. "It was too uptight for my taste, so I decided to do something about it. Nothing brings out the playful side of people like a good old-fashioned prank war."

Her smile glimmered and she was watching him now, her body language encouraging him to go on.

"My roommate, Chris, who was also my best friend, had no idea what was going on. I did the works - short-sheeting beds, shaving cream in shoes, rocks in backpacks, loosening chair screws, tying shoelaces together, honey in their hair gel - no one was safe."

Tony grinned, remembering. "It was great. Didn't matter how much the matrons tried, no one would talk. I was the phantom pranker. Well, until I almost got caught and claimed Chris put me up to it. He didn't forgive me for weeks and we both served a lot of detention for the trouble that was caused. But at least we got some laughs out of the experience."

Ziva's tea cup was empty now and she was slouched down against her pillow.

"Try to get some sleep Zi," Tony encouraged. "I'm gonna be right here."

_If only that was enough to keep the nightmares away_, Ziva thought. However, when she closed her eyes a few minutes later it was not Somalia that she saw, but rather a young Anthony DiNozzo running through the halls of a school, making mischief. Which, come to think of it, wasn't much of a stretch. She fell asleep with a smile on her face and slept until it was almost morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony and Ziva went into work together on Friday, neither desiring to have a repeat of yesterday morning. It was a good day, even if most of their work hours were taken up with paperwork due to a lack of cases. Ziva finished going through the stack of files on her desk before even McGee, and spent the next twenty minutes painstakingly doing something with a piece of paper.

Curious, Tony peered overtop of his computer at her. "Whatcha doin' Zee-vah?" he asked.

His partner didn't bother acknowledging Tony's question and a moment later set a small figure on the corner of her desk.

Tony frowned. "What is that?"

McGee glanced over. "It's a swan Tony."

"Made out of paper?" the senior agent's forehead wrinkled.

"Origami," Gibbs announced.

"Ori-what?" Tony repeated, beginning to feel like a parrot.

"Origami. It's the ancient Japanese art of paper folding," Abby explained, appearing in the squadroom and perching on the edge of McGee's desk. She leaned back on one hand, which was quickly covered by Tim's. Abby smiled over her shoulder at him. Gibbs noticed the brief exchange but said nothing. Sometimes the less he knew, the better.

"Got something for us Abby?" Tony asked hopefully. He was pretty much dying from boredom because of all the paperwork.

"Plans," she declared firmly. "Non-negotiable ones."

Tony waited a beat but she didn't elaborate so he had to ask. "What kind of plans?"

Abby grinned. "Team night out. Appetizers and drinks at the usual place. It'll be fun. The perfect way to spend a Friday night."

Ziva didn't move, didn't smile, didn't say a word, but Tony saw the way she tensed and he had to restrain himself from going over to her. A hand on her shoulder would not be comforting right now, it would just intensify whatever she was feeling and personally, he felt like keeping all of his limbs intact today.

Tony cleared his throat, hoping to keep their attention off Ziva until she relaxed. "Is everyone coming?"

"Well, no," Abby frowned and sighed. "Palmer has a date and Ducky and Dr. Jordyn are attending a lecture." The forensic scientist narrowed her eyes at the desk across from McGee's. "Gibbs?"

"Sorry Abs. Busy tonight."

She crossed her arms. "Busy doing what?" Abby demanded. "What could possibly be more important than going out with your team?"

The look she got caused a pout but she gave up, knowing it was useless to press him. "Fine." Her gaze pinned the rest of them to their seats. "But the rest of your are coming. No excuses."

Tim squeezed her hand gently, which made Abby's smile to return. She hopped off his desk and waved. "See you in a couple hours."

**NCIS**

This was not a good idea. Tony watched Ziva's body language as he followed her into the bar, Abby and McGee leading the way. The dimness in the room had already slowed her steps and he could tell just by the way Ziva was holding herself that the loud male voices and occasional drunken shouts were on the verge of causing a flashback.

Immediately he stepped closer. "Easy Zi," Tony murmured in her ear, careful not to touch her, trying to ignore how she flinched away from him before his voice registered as familiar and not a threat. "No one's going to hurt you."

Ziva's hand brushed his as she turned and met his eyes briefly. "I know," she replied, though Tony doubted she believed her own words.

Abby and McGee chose a booth and Tony made sure Ziva slid in first, leaving him on the outside. He didn't think anything bad would happen, but he wanted to act as her shield, just in case something did.

"This is great, huh?" Abby grinned, oblivious to the tension flowing from Tony and Ziva. "Just the team, out together." She looked around their small circle. "It's been a long time."

McGee slid his hand over to rest on Abby's lower back. "We should order something, don't you think?" He wasn't going to minimize Abby's happiness for an evening out, but he could tell that this was not yet fun for the other half of the group.

Abby reached for McGee's hand and raised her other arm to get the waitress's attention.

The girl soon arrived at their table, hair piled messily on top of her head, wearing dark make-up, and chewing gum loudly. "What can I get ya?"

The Goth looked at Tony, letting him choose first. "Nachos to share, and I'll have a non-alcoholic beer." He shrugged at the others and grinned. "I drove."

Tim opted for a Dr. Pepper, claiming the same excuse as Tony. Abby ordered colourful, girly drinks for her and Ziva, who still wasn't making eye contact with any of them. Ordinarily Tony would've teased Ziva about drinking something like that, but not tonight.

Garlic fingers and breaded cheesesticks were also added to their order and then they just had to wait. The drinks were delivered rather quickly and Abby eagerly gulped hers down, needing a refill by the time their food arrived. It had been a long week and she was ready for some fun.

It was good that Abby was along, Tony decided only a few minutes into the outing, because he didn't feel like talking, Ziva wasn't there yet, and McGee seemed content just to observe everyone else. As long as they all smiled, nodded, and tossed in the occasional comment, Abby continued to talk and it was easier for them just to listen.

They picked at the food on their table, Abby and McGee eating the most, though Tony enjoyed his share of the nachos - hot, cheesy, meaty and crunchy - just the way he liked them. He convinced Ziva to try the garlic fingers but she didn't seem in the mood for food.

Tony couldn't help but notice that after Abby's second drink disappeared, McGee interrupted her attempt to order a third with a comment about the song that was playing, and started pushing his pop towards her, letting her sip it instead.

After about an hour and a half of small talk, finger food, and enough liquid to warrant a trip to the restroom, Abby was feeling in a dancing mood and grabbed Tim's hand before he hand a chance to argue, dragging him towards the dance floor. Ziva watched them go with a smile.

Tony had been keeping one eye on her the entire night, too preoccupied to notice how close Abby and McGee were sitting, or the way she leaned back to whisper in his ear, or how Tim kept touching Abby gently, as if making sure she was still there. Ziva was glad they had each other.

After the two weeks she'd spend on Abby's couch, with McGee showing up for supper, helping choose a movie, and always staying the night, Ziva was convinced the Goth and the computer geek were good for each other. Even though they hadn't said much, it was all about actions, and the Israeli could see the love they'd spent years trying to hide or avoid.

Sometimes it took a terrible event for two people to realize they needed each other. It gave Ziva some comfort after what she'd gone though, if even a little good had come from it. Glancing at Tony for a moment, she wondered what had changed for them in Somalia. When had he started to care so much? The way Ziva felt these days though, she was not sure they would ever get the chance to find out.

Her eyes flickered across the room, nervous tension boiling in her stomach. Ziva watched everyone, trying to analyze their moods and intentions, but after three months in captivity, she no longer trusted her judgement, nor the instincts honed over years of training, first with Mossad, and then as a member of Gibbs' team.

No longer an assassin, not an official member of the team again yet, and a wannabe investigator whose future hung in the balance...Ziva was no longer sure who or what she was, and the realization was disconcerting. Everything she'd ever known had been shattered in that desert. Now she had to figure out what to do with the pieces that were left.

**NCIS**

Tony watched Ziva twist her drinking glass around and around in a circle. She hadn't touched it yet and he didn't expect her to. Ziva would not want to be put in a position where her ability to think clearly might be compromised. He understood.

After awhile, Tony knew it was time to go. He jerked his head at McGee and the probie persuaded a reluctant Abby to leave the dance floor momentarily. Tony wasn't an idiot, but as he watched them walk back to the table together, laughing, Abby leaning on Tim for support, her eyes intensely focused on everything he was doing and saying, Tony suddenly realized he'd missed all the signs.

But that was okay, because it looked like McGee hadn't missed his chance with Abby this time after all. Instead of teasing Tim, Tony felt a surge of pride, and the desire to clap his friend on the shoulder and say 'well done'. But he kept his mouth shut about it, showing respect with his restraint.

Tony stood up, hoping Ziva would follow his lead. "It's been fun guys, but I think we're going to head out." He locked eyes with Ziva, finding relief there, and knew he'd made the right decision.

Abby looked disappointed. "Don't you want to come dance for awhile first?" she asked.

Ziva shook her head once. "Not this time, thank you Abby."

"Okay." She sighed, then swallowed them both in tight hugs, her hold on Ziva gentler than usual. Abby turned to Tim and grinned. "Looks like we get leftovers."

Tim and Tony shook hands. "Take care."

Tony's gaze settled meaningfully on Abby, knowing McGee would catch his drift. "You too."

He followed Ziva outside the bar, across the parking lot, and down the street to where his car was parked. Each step of the way all Tony wanted to do was slip his hand into hers and lace their fingers together. She needed to know she was safe with him, that the last thing he'd do was let someone hurt her again. But he had no rights with her yet, and no freedom to do what he hoped would help. Someday, maybe. Except that from here it looked so far away, and Tony couldn't help but wish that someday was today.

**NCIS**

Once inside Tony's car, Ziva was finally able to relax. She didn't let herself dwell on why being in Tony's car and staying at his apartment felt safe. For now she would just enjoy the security she'd been bereft of for many months. Tony put the key in the ignition but made no effort to turn the car on. He sighed and looked at his feet.

"I'm sorry Ziva. That was a bad idea. We should've just gone home after work and-"

Ziva shook her head, cutting him off. "I cannot hide forever Tony," she said softly. "Abby was right, it was good to be out with the team. But better to stay in next time, yes?"

Tony's lips hinted at a smile. "Next time Zi. Pizza party and movie marathon at my place, I promise."

He started the car and took them home. As soon as they changed and got comfortable on the couch with their drinks, Tony grinned.

"Since it is now officially the weekend, I would like to declare the next two days to be a 'Best Classic TV Shows' theme." He jumped up and grabbed a boxed DVD set. "Starting with Andy Griffith and Opie in good old Mayberry." Tony stretched back out on the couch after putting the first disc in and turned to Ziva at the opening notes of the familiar song. "Let the good times roll."

**NCIS**

They stayed up late watching the old TV show, knowing there were no deadlines tomorrow, and no places to be. But by the time the clock hit midnight, neither of them could hold back their yawns, and before 12:30 am, Tony was escorting Ziva to his bedroom door as usual. He said goodnight there and headed back to the livingroom. Ziva watched him go.

It was only fifteen minutes later when his knock came and Ziva had barely even started on the list of countries and cities she'd been to while working for Mossad. She looked up and Tony shrugged.

"I heard a noise."

His excuses were bordering on the ridiculous now, but Ziva bit back the sarcastic response she didn't really want to give, and nodded instead. She couldn't refuse Tony and had even been waiting, wondering if he would come tonight too. It was strange, but she was glad that he wanted to be there with her.

They didn't say anything, just like they never did about his sudden appearances in what was for now, her room, even though they both know the reason behind his need to be close. Whether it was the evening out or the Andy Griffith re-runs circling in his head, Tony wasn't sure, but he wasn't quite asleep more than an hour later when Ziva started getting restless.

Feeling like an old hand at this now, Tony got up and took two strides to make it to the bed. He studied Ziva's face, the fear and submission in her expression foreign to him. He'd never seen Ziva like that, except one time, when they were sitting on hard wooden chairs in a terrorist camp, and he was talking to save their lives.

His fingers moved aside a curl that had fallen over her face, and he kept his voice soft, but firm. "Ziva." No response. When Tony placed his hands on her upper arms, Ziva struggled as he'd come to expect, but then suddenly her eyes were open and he wasn't sure if it was him she was seeing.

"Ziva?" he asked cautiously.

Her eyes filled with tears and Tony realized he did not do well with crying women. She drank in the sight of him like it had been years and finally closed her eyes, turning her head away so he only saw some of the teardrops flowing down her face.

"Hey," Tony whispered, "it's okay. I'm here Zi. You're safe, I promise." He tried to pull her into a hug, thinking she might allow the solace, but she put her hands on his chest and shook her head.

"No Tony. I cannot...please." She did not want to sound like she was begging, but the memories were too close.

Once she sat up, Tony released her, but for the first time he did not move away. Ziva watched his face and realized he was thinking very hard about something. The silence filtered in and hung between them like so many elephants in the room. Finally he spoke, acting as if it were very hard to meet her eyes.

"What do you see when you dream Ziva?"

Ziva froze. She had not expected that he would ask her to share, not yet. But he was there every night, trying to save her from the images that roared behind her closed eyelids. Surely he deserved to know some of what they were unconsciously fighting together. Tony waited tensely for Ziva to respond, hoping beyond hope that he hadn't asked more than she could give, because he really didn't think he could take any longer not knowing.

Ziva pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the headboard. "I see many things I wish my mind could forget Tony."

He had nearly given up on her saying anything, but Tony slowly turned to face her more. He wasn't sure how to encourage her to go on, and against his nature, decided to be quiet and wait out everything she was struggling with.

"I see you, and me, fighting in Israel. Sometimes it is real and I still walk away. But sometimes I shoot you because I was still so angry, and you lay dying while I watch with fear, because I just killed the last person in the world who thought I mattered."

She wrapped her arms tighter around her legs, and Tony knew that the memories were getting harder. "I see me fighting my way through Saleem's defenses, only to be taken down an instant before he would have fallen dead at my feet. I see the cell, the chair, the single window."

Ziva's breathing hitched and her voiced inched lower. "I see what they did to me. The dreams are so real that I remember the pain of each action, and I am afraid to feel it again. I do not know how I lived through it the first time. I could not do it again."

Tony's heart constricted, and he was beginning to wish he hadn't asked. "Zi..." he tried, but a swift shake of her head left him quiet.

"It is better that you know," she whispered, though some of what had been done against her will she hoped he never found out. Tony would hate her for being ruined. The damage he thought he knew about was bad enough. She did not ever want him to know the darkest secrets she kept. "Maybe it should not always be inside my head."

He shifted closer, not wanting to back her into a corner, but not wanting her to feel alone as she shared her experiences.

"Sometimes it is a memory that I dream, sometimes it is a nightmare from the desert that comes back to haunt me. I see you, Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Ducky, tied to chairs and tortured because you would not tell them where to find me. I see the people I care about most in the world executed before my eyes, a new form of inflicting pain upon me, as a consequence for my silence."

She let her legs fall into a cross-legged position, while her hands lay limp in her lap. "The worst part is the look in their eyes when they die. Where I used to see friendship and care, I now see hatred and disgust. It is always the last thing I remember before I die."

Ziva laughed without humour. "I have been killed so many times in my dreams that when I wake I am no longer certain whether I am dead or alive." She looked away. "Some days I am not sure which one I want to be."

Tony had not expected this much detail and he didn't know what to do with all the information he was now being forced to process. He had been right to think her torture had not ended with Somalia, because now it was her own mind that insisted on punishing her for crimes she could not take back.

Slowly, he reached out and hooked his fingertips with hers. Ziva stiffened at his touch, but when he didn't move, she studied their linked hands and wondered when the last time was that so much support had been conveyed with so little. There was more yet to tell, all the pictures that haunted her, but Ziva was almost out of strength to speak of them.

"In the nightmares time rewinds, and I burst into my apartment, gun in hand, to see you on the floor and Michael already dead. But this time I know you did not lie about the reasons you killed him. I see Gibbs' back as he walked away, leaving me on the tarmac in Israel. But I realize it is because I made him choose and he could not. It was unfair. I see my decision to take on the mission from my father alone, knowing that I was not likely to return. I thought the only person I could trust was myself, because I had forgotten what it was like to be part of this family."

Tony's fingers tightened on hers, his mind picturing each scene she described. "I see the moment the cell door slammed shut for the first time and I realized that there was no one to rescue me this time, no one who knew where I was, an perhaps, no one who even cared if I was still alive. I had alienated every person who tried to care for me, and I was alone. There was only the walls to watch me cry, only the hard floor to hold the blood, only the window to hear my screams. I had never known what alone really was until that day."

For once, the king of smart remarks, the prince of shooting off his mouth, had no response. There was nothing he could say to take the memories away, nothing he could do that would erase the time filled with awful things and left to rot in a corner of her mind that only became visible when she closed her eyes. So he rubbed his thumb down the side of her baby finger, the only comfort he could offer.

"What do you want to see Ziva?"

Finally she looked at him, tear tracks on her face, a dark, wild look in her eyes. "Nothing! I wish to see nothing! I wish to sleep for days and days and not be reminded of the hell I almost did not return from. They were to kill me that day Tony! By rights I should be dead right now, not sitting in your bed trying to forget a nightmare I did not mean to live through."

Tony held her gaze firmly, wanting her to hear his words, for whatever they were worth. "Someday Ziva, I hope you see sunshine. Sunshine that burns away all the shadows. Sunshine where you run and laugh and smile. Sunshine that reminds you to be alive."

Ziva's voice was broken as she looked down at the rumpled blanket. "And what do I do until then, Tony?"

He dared to brush his knuckles down her cheek. "Try to sleep Ziva. Because I will always be right here."


	7. Chapter 7

Tony woke up on Saturday morning when he heard Ziva shifting around on the bed. Alarmed, he sat up, only to have Ziva open her eyes and look at him. His breathing calmed when he realized she wasn't dreaming and, at the moment, didn't need to be saved.

"I am sorry," she said softly. "I did not mean to wake you."

Tony rubbed his eyes. "Not a problem. Everything okay Zi?"

She nodded. "I cannot sleep anymore."

He checked the clock. "0800. That's practically sleeping in these days." Tony yawned and stretched. "Well, now that we're up, how about finding something for breakfast?"

Ziva shook her head. "I want to go for a run."

Tony eyed her carefully. "No rest on the weekend Zi?" She just glared at him and he sighed. "Okay, I guess I could probably do with a workout too. Five minutes?"

Ziva pointed to the window, where sunshine showed. "Outside today."

He smiled. She must be feeling better if she was willing to be out in the open instead of in the sheltered safety of the NCIS gym. "I'm game."

She frowned. "What game?"

Tony rolled his eyes, glad some things were back to normal. "No, I mean I'll come."

"Well why did you not just say that?" she groused, getting out of bed. "I think you are trying to confuse me."

He grinned. "Believe me Zi, you haven't seen me try yet."

She frowned, then gathered her clothes to change. On her way to the bathroom, Ziva looked back over her shoulder at him. "Can you keep up Tony?"

"I can handle a mile," Tony replied defensively, not wanting her to go alone, not sure if she would.

Ten minutes later they were both dressed - Tony in an old t-shirt and shorts, Ziva in thin black pants with a light blue running jacket covering the rest of her outfit. She'd come out of his room like that, still not letting him see anymore skin than absolutely necessary. Tony didn't like to think about what she was keeping from him.

Once outside, Ziva set a moderate pace and Tony kept up easily. She wasn't pushing either one of them today, but she needed to be doing something. After awhile, Tony glanced over at her. Ziva's eyes were closed, a slight smile on her face as the breeze blew back escaped pieces of hair. It made him happy to see her enjoying the moment.

The blocks passed quickly as they traveled in a large square around Tony's apartment. Ziva enjoyed the chance to be back outside, to feel the wind in her face. It made her feel alive. She was a good judge of distance but figured Tony probably wasn't paying as much attention, so she extended their run for a mile and a half, bored with the limitations that had been put on her. She needed to start building her endurance back up. Ziva hated feeling weak.

Both of them took an extra block to cool down and catch their breath. When he could speak again without wheezing, Tony pointed to a small café across the street. "Breakfast burrito Ziva?" he asked with a smile, remembering the one she tried to share with him shortly after she joined the team. He hadn't welcomed her actions then, now he'd be glad for her to do something similar.

Ziva nodded her agreement, wishing she could roll up her sleeves now. She hated the sticky feeling from the sweat running down her back and stomach, but she only had a tank top on underneath the zip-up, and far too much showed. She did not want Tony asking any more questions. At some point she would probably have to tell him more about what happened to her that summer, but not yet. As a compromise to her discomfort, Ziva unzipped the top layer a bit and followed her partner into the café.

Tony's hand brushed the small of Ziva's back as he moved to let her get in line first. She tensed at the contact but his expression never changed, so she assumed it was an accident. Tony ordered their breakfast and a minute later handed her one of the foil wrapped rolls.

They stepped out of the building into the sunlight, turning in the same direction without a word to each other. There was a park nearby with a walking path circling it. Their feet lead them there. The two friends were quiet as they ate their breakfast - Tony's was gone in a matter of minutes but Ziva nibbled hers slowly, not tossing her empty wrapper into a garbage bin until they were nearly back to where they'd started.

Tony could only stand the silence for so long and finally had to speak. "Nice day," he commented.

To Ziva, the quiet between them was comforting and familiar. No dread filled this silence, though her ears were still alert to every sound around her. Somalia had made her that way, unable to rest and relax, she always had to be prepared when they came for her. She always had to find the strength to say nothing for just a little bit longer.

She didn't answer for so long Toy thought she wasn't going to. When Ziva finally said something, it wasn't what he'd expected.

"The sun in the desert is so much different, hot and burning. I like the sun here. It does not make me feel afraid."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. That was a long explanation, even if Ziva had slowly started speaking more in the last week. He wished he could sling his arm around her shoulders, give the kind of reassurance that didn't require words. But he'd already run today and Tony didn't want to end up flat on his back staring up at the blue sky because her instincts considered touch a threat. So he kept quiet and just enjoyed the pleasure of Ziva's company.

Soon enough they were back at Tony's apartment, arms and fingers occasionally touching as they climbed the narrow staircase to the fourth floor. Ziva shivered every time Tony's skin made contact with hers, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move further away. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life avoiding normal human contact, and one had to start somewhere.

To Tony, every touch that seemed incidental, every time he invaded her space or leaned over her to reach for something, was purely intentional, all part of his carefully crafted plan to show Ziva a little at a time that his touch was safe, that he was safe. It was hard not to push past the boundaries she'd drawn, so Tony walked a thin line, desperately waiting for a time when his partner was no longer afraid of him.

Tony and Ziva each headed for separate bathrooms to shower, meeting again in the livingroom twenty minutes later. Tony had gone with his usual weekend wardrobe, very laid back, just sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Ziva didn't have any old clothes now, so chose yoga pants and a light blue t-shirt, covering her arms with a tan, button up shirt that she left undone, reminiscent of what she used to wear when she first came to NCIS.

Once she folded herself neatly into one corner of the couch, Tony grinned and pressed play on the remote. "Ziva David, I would like to introduce you to Magnum PI."

The excitement in Tony's voice was palatable and he sounded so much like a little boy that Ziva had to smile. She nodded. "We have not met."

His eyes widened in shock. "You've never seen an episode of Magnum?"

Ziva shrugged. "No, but there is a first time for everything."

Her statement had more meaning than she knew and Tony smiled slowly. "Yeah, I guess there is."

**NCIS**

Tony and Ziva watched episodes of Magnum until mid-afternoon, only taking a break to throw together a couple of sandwiches for a quick lunch. Ziva was appalled at the lack of actual food in Tony's house and spent half of the last episode planning what she could do about it. When the disc ended, Ziva set her plate aside and stretched. Tony moved to go put in more of his favourite show, but the sound of his guest's voice stopped him.

"Tony," she declared firmly, combing her fingers through her wild hair and making it hard for him to concentrate on her words, "we are going grocery shopping."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Tired of take-out Ziva?" She started weaving her loose curls into a braid and Tony was disappointed. He loved when she wore her hair down, something he'd been privileged to see a lot since she'd been staying.

Ziva frowned. "We are both adults, yes? It is time we started making real food for our meals."

Tony couldn't tell her how much he liked hearing the words 'we' and 'our' coming from Ziva's lips about them. It started him thinking about the kind of permanence not even Jeanne had inspired. While Tony had loved Jeanne, and had sometimes wondered about a life with her, the doctor had never needed him the way his partner did, especially now.

Ziva needed someone to watch her back for the times she thought she was superwoman, or forgot her life was too important to risk foolishly. Ziva needed someone who could get past her walls and under her skin, someone who realized there was so much more to her as a person than what other's eyes could see.

_She needs me_, he thought, swallowing hard as he took in the little details about Ziva, everything that fascinated him and drew him to her. _And I'm going to show her, somehow, that no one could ever love her as much as I do._

Then Ziva's eyes met his and Tony had to scramble to get some distance from what he'd been thinking. She wasn't ready to hear any of what was in his heart yet, and he couldn't let her see it in his eyes either. It was too soon and Tony didn't want to scare her away before she'd even fully come back.

Her eyes narrowed, seeing something in Tony's expression that she didn't know how to read. "What?" she asked, curious.

Tony averted his gaze and coughed. "Uh, nothing. You're right Zi, let's go grocery shopping."

**NCIS**

"Do you like stirfry, Tony?" Ziva asked, turning a green pepper over thoughtfully in her hand.

Tony gave her the half-grin that made her want to smile back and gave her gooseprickles all over. "I'm a guy Ziva. If it's food, I'm not picky."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You are not picky? The man who whines when his shoes get scuffed and complains for days if something gets spilled on his tie. You?"

"I said food Zee-vah, not picky about food," Tony clarified, reaching past her to grab a couple ripe tomatoes.

His arm grazed hers and Ziva jerked away from the normal but unexpected contact. Tony turned to apologize for being so close, because that one hadn't been planned. They were around other people and her reactions could get out of control sometimes. He didn't want to take that risk. When he looked at Ziva, her eyes were closed, two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she fought to breathe normally.

Tony's heart sank and he wanted to rest his hands on her shoulders, wanted to comfort her but know that he couldn't. "Ziva, I-" he began, but she finally looked at him, her eyes soft.

"You do not have to apologize Tony, I am fine." His raised eyebrows protested the validity of that statement, so Ziva did something that she hadn't done since Monday. She laid her palm on his cheek and smiled. "Thank you for being so careful. I am trying not to be afraid."

Tony nodded, savouring her willing touch. To anyone else, it probably looked like a normal moment between boyfriend and girlfriend. To the two partners, it was so much more - a little step forward. And if Tony has his way, it would only be the first of many steps that would let Ziva find a way back to life as she had known it, or at least closer to what it had been.

They walked through the rest of the store together - Ziva planning meals in her head and adding items to the cart accordingly, Tony throwing in anything that looked good. Ziva's expression grew more and more skeptical as the cart was piled with frozen pizza, donuts, and microwave meals.

"Do you always eat like this Tony?" she asked at last, amazed that he stayed so fit.

Tony dropped two bags of pasta in with the rest of the food. He shrugged. "I don't know, why?"

Ziva shook her head. "It is a good thing that we run a lot in our line of work."

His eyes narrowed. "That better not be a crack about my weight." He felt his mid-section self-consciously. "I still have my muscles."

Ziva smiled and shook her head. Tony really was in good shape, but she could never tell him she thought so, it would go straight to his head.

A couple aisles later they reached frozen desserts. Tony opened the freezer, scanning his choices. "Hey Ziva, what's your favourite kind of ice cream?"

Her eyes widened and she joined him at the door, rubbing her hand down one arm as the cold air washed over her skin. She read the names of each kind and lingered until Tony finally had to shut the door to keep the cold in. He wasn't sure what to make of the look in her eyes and frowned.

"Something wrong Zi?"

Her stare focused on the lines in the floor. "I have not had ice cream in a long time Tony."

Tony smiled to cover any other emotion at her confession. "My treat," he said gently. "Pick whatever you want."

Lifting her eyes to his, Ziva mirrored his smile and checked the flavours again. "Chocolate ripple?"

Tony grabbed it out of the freezer along with a container of Smartie, his vice of choice. "Perfect."

At the check-out, Ziva reached for her credit card, but Tony shook his head. "I've got it Ziva."

She frowned. "I will be eating this food too."

"It's for my apartment, I'll pay," Tony said firmly. "When we go shopping for your place, I won't argue."

The mention of her apartment sent Ziva back in time and she tucked the card in her pocket, staying very quiet as she helped Tony unload the cart. Sometimes it hurt to remember what she'd lost and Ziva wondered again if it was wrong to get attached to people or things when they all got taken away, somehow or another.

**NCIS**

Tony noticed Ziva's silence on the way home but chose to leave her to her thoughts, hoping she'd snap out of it. Back in his kitchen, Tony took over putting things away while Ziva got out a knife and cutting board, chopping vegetables for the stirfry as meat simmered in the frying pan.

Later, he took over vegetable duty so Ziva could get the angelhair pasta ready. It was a quiet hour the two of them spent getting dinner ready, but Tony enjoyed the chance to be close to Ziva when she was too focused on other things to be nervous about their proximity. And Ziva was glad to be cooking again. It was something she really enjoyed. She'd missed it.

They carried full plates into the livingroom when the meal was ready and Tony switched to Gilligan's Island for their evening TV fare. Ziva scoffed at Gilligan's stupidity and the professor's inventions, but he caught her smiling a couple times and considered the show a hit.

**NCIS**

Three hours of Gilligan later, Ziva felt her eyelids getting heavy. She covered a yawn and nudged Tony with her sock covered foot. He looked over and saw that she was tired. "Bedtime?" he asked. Ziva nodded. "Okay then."

Shutting everything off, Tony turned back to Ziva and held his hands out to help her up. He'd done it every night since the first and he'd keep doing it until she could trust him with touch. Ziva bit her lip and studied Tony's hands in front of her. Slowly and hesitantly, she put her hands in his.

Tony was surprised, but pulled Ziva to her feet, not even disappointed when she let go immediately and looked down to brush invisible wrinkles from her yoga pants. In little ways she was starting to trust him and that was all that mattered. Actually, Tony was having a hard time containing a shout of victory at the small change.

He walked Ziva down the hall and smiled as she walked through the door. "'Night Zi."

She leaned her head against the door. "Good night Tony," she said quietly, shutting it behind her.

Back in the livingroom, Tony flopped down on the couch and watched the clock, his eyes flitting over the room now and then as he looked for his latest excuse. The streetlight out the window caught his attention and Tony grinned. _Bingo_.

**NCIS**

Ziva watched the clock ticking on the wall opposite the bed, measuring the minutes since she'd slipped under the covers. When the second hand hit twelve, she heard soft footsteps coming down the hall and hid her smile. It had been exactly fifteen minutes.

Tony knocked softly before sticking his head in the door. "Hey," he grinned sheepishly.

"Yes Tony?" Ziva asked as if she didn't know.

He edged further into the room and shrugged. "The shadows in the livingroom were moving."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Tony sighed. "That's what I saw. It could've just been the creepy glow from the streetlight, but I didn't want to take any chances."

Ziva waved her hand towards his makeshift bed. "I would not mind the company tonight." In all honesty, she appreciated what Tony was doing. The dreams weren't as severe if he got to her in time, and with his presence in the room she was able to fall asleep faster after. It was nice to know he was there.

Relief flooded his features. "Great." Tony strode quickly to the pile of blankets and settled down. Neither of them said another word and both slipped peacefully into sleep not too many minutes later. It had been a good day.

**NCIS**

"Mmm..." a groan broke through Tony's sub-conscious and his eyes snapped open, instantly on alert. _Ziva!_

She tossed around on the bed, first to her side, then her back, then her other side. Tony sat up and crawled over to the bed. Her eyebrows were drawn into a tight line, her lips pressed together hard enough to make them appear colourless.

Tony sighed. He hated seeing her like this. In a now familiar motion, he slipped one arm behind her back and the other over her stomach, pinning her arms against her sides even as she struggled in her sleep. He leaned against the headboard but before Tony could even say her name. Ziva kicked out violently at an invisible attacker, the force of the movement bringing her back to wakefulness. He tightened his arms around her briefly, waiting for her to realize where she was.

Finally Ziva raised a hand to run her fingers through her hair and Tony moved his arm so she could. He'd made a decision earlier, wanted to try something a little more drastic with Ziva tonight, but it was hard to prepare himself for what her reaction would be.

Ziva shifted uneasily. "Tony," she said softly, having reached the point where she needed him to let go. She waited a beat but Tony didn't move and Ziva felt her pulse spike at the feeling of being confined again. "Tony," she struggled against his hold, "let me go. Please," she added quietly, scared now. Ziva knew Tony wouldn't hurt her but that was not what experience had taught her in the last few months.

Tony closed his eyes, hating that he was adding to her distress, but he didn't know how else to show her he was safe. "Shh Ziva," he whispered against her hair. "It's alright." He moved his arm lower so it was around her waist, his other hand catching both of hers, trying to keep his embrace comforting and non-threatening.

Ziva didn't like having Tony so close, didn't like that he wouldn't let go. She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but years of playing football had taught Tony to anticipate people's movements, and he simply changed his hold. "No," she whimpered, falling still as a feeling of dread came over her. Ziva shut her eyes as her mind was drawn back to a dark, cold cell at night, when the safety of the sun was gone.

"Ziva." She jumped. Tony's voice was right in her ear this time, but it brought her back. "It's okay," he repeated, trying to inject the words with how much he cared. "You need to know I'm not going to hurt you."

All Ziva's instincts screamed 'danger!' and the only thing her mind registered was the feel of a man's body against hers. The fear ran deep and when she made a pitiful sound deep in her throat, Tony nearly backed down. But they'd come this far and somehow he knew he had to see this through, for both their sakes. He moved his thumb in a gentle caress over the back of Ziva's hand, holding her now against the memories he knew were threatening.

Ziva couldn't think. She had to force herself to breathe, to focus on the truths of what was happening. This was DC, not Somalia. Tony's room, not a stone cell. The voice whispering in her ear, the arms keeping her still belonged to Tony, her partner, not Saleem or one of his men. Her breathing slowed as she thought Tony's name again.

Her partner. The one person out of everyone she'd wished to apologize to before she died. The voice in her head, correcting her English and teasing her about her ninja skills while they scarred her body in an attempt to make her talk. The man who sat across from her telling her they had a plan. One of the one's who'd dragged her to freedom outside of the camp.

Forcing her eyes open, Ziva fixed her gaze on the wall, waiting for something to change. Suddenly the words he'd been speaking softly to her changed and it took Ziva a moment to realize Tony was singing to her in a low voice, the English version of a Hebrew lullaby. It was the same one McGee and Abby had found and sung together some long ago day.

As the song stretched out in Tony's surprisingly good singing voice, little by little Ziva felt herself relax and when she finally did just let Tony hold her, not quite enjoying it but no longer afraid something bad would happen, Tony let her go. He slipped out from behind her, his hand lightly brushing her cheek.

"I just wanted to show you it wasn't all bad," he whispered, moving back to his own bed before she could react. Tony couldn't face her, so he lay on his side towards the wall, remembering the feel of Ziva in his arms and the few sweet seconds when she relaxed and truly trusted him. He could only hope there would be more moments like that in the coming days.

Ziva lay curled up on the bed, watching Tony's still form across the room and thinking about his last words. No, she decided, a man's touch was not always bad. That night Tony had begun to teach her that it could be healing also. She smiled and closed her eyes. But it was remembering Tony's actions more than a fear of her dreams that kept Ziva awake this night. What would tomorrow hold?


	8. Chapter 8

"Really Ziva, 0730?" Tony yawned, still laying on his bed of blankets.

Ziva was putting her hair up in a ponytail and turned to look at him. "Yes Tony. It is best to go early, before the day gets hot."

Tony propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. "Zi, it's Sunday. You know, a day of rest? Can't you just skip the run for once?"

She dropped onto one corner of the bed. "I have a lot of work to do to get back to where I was before," Ziva explained.

"One day isn't going to set you back," Tony insisted. "Come on, I'll make pancakes and we can watch MacGuyver. What do you say?"

Ziva looked up, considering the offer. Pancakes were her favourite breakfast treat and the Israeli had a feeling her partner knew that. "Can we have bacon?" she asked at last.

Tony's grin was dazzling. "Absolutely. Is that a yes?"

With a sigh and a small smile, Ziva gave in. "Yes."

"Great." He jumped up out of bed. "Why don't you grab a seat in the livingroom and relax and I'll whip us up a batch of special DiNozzo Sunday morning pancakes?"

"Relax?" Ziva questioned, one eyebrow arched at him. "I want to help."

Tony shook his head, still smiling. "Let me serve you today Zi," he said softer.

With a nod Ziva agreed and Tony headed for the kitchen, whistling. A minute later she followed and crouched down in front of the little used bookshelf beside Tony's TV. Perusing the sparse selection, Ziva was surprised to find among his collection the Lord of the Rings series, along with a few comic books, the expected stack of men's magazines, and a couple Steven King thrillers.

Then her eyes widened and she reached for a small, thick book tucked in one corner. Pulling it out, she flipped to the first page and there, neatly printed at the top, was her name. She looked at it again. Les Miserables had been her favourite book since she read it for the first time at twelves years old. She'd read it twenty times at least, always using reading as her 'go-to' activity whenever a stakeout became unbelievably boring.

Ziva caressed the cover. She thought this book had been lost in the explosion that claimed her apartment and the rest of her belongings. Then she remembered once pulling it out of her backpack and flinging it at Tony after he'd complained for two straight hours about being bored and she couldn't take it anymore.

He'd looked at it like he wasn't sure what to do with literature when it didn't come with a remote, then finally he opened it and started reading. Ziva forgot what happened to it after that, only remembering that the book had kept Tony quiet for half an hour. She was delighted to find that he'd kept it and settled down in a chair to read, feeling like she'd found a long lost friend.

Tony watched the whole thing from the kitchen, enjoying seeing the delight of her discovery bloom on Ziva's face. He'd never finished the book, it was over a thousand pages for crying out loud! But it was something of Ziva's and after she'd returned to Israel and they thought she was dead, the book was something he couldn't get rid of. Sometimes he'd hold it and look at her name written in careful letters and just think about her, missing her. Tony was so glad to have the real thing back in his life now. His memories didn't hold a candle to seeing Ziva in person.

Turning his attention back to breakfast, Tony grabbed the package of turkey bacon out of a drawer in the fridge. He wasn't sure if Ziva noticed when they were grocery shopping, but he'd been careful to keep most of his selections as kosher as possible, though the bacon had been her choice. He wanted Ziva to be able to eat anything in his kitchen without worrying about it. It wasn't like she kept kosher all the time, but if she was going to, he wanted to make it easier on her.

Whipping up his fabulous, fluffy pancakes, dubbed a "DiNozzo special" by Abby a couple years ago, Tony threw together a quick, tasty, Sunday morning meal. Seeing Ziva absorbed in her book, he whistled to get her attention, frowning when her back stiffened before she set the novel down and forced a smile before she turned around.

Carrying two plates, Tony put them on the coffee table and went back for forks. He sat beside Ziva and eyed her carefully. "The whistle was a bad idea, huh?"

"What?" Ziva's eyes flickered to him.

Tony sighed. "You don't hide the reactions very well. You're back to being jumpy again and I haven't even tried to touch you. Can you tell me why whistling bothered you?"

Ziva shrugged and looked away. "It is not whistling in general, just...that kind."

"The kind that gets your attention?" he asked gently and she nodded. "Why Zi?"

She fiddled with her fork. "It was a signal," Ziva said softly.

Tony sensed that he wasn't going to get more of an explanation and to be honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted one. His imagination was already running wild and he really didn't want to think about what kind of signal that whistle could've been, not when Ziva wouldn't even look at him.

"You know what?" he smiled, getting up to change the DVD. "MacGuyver can wait, I think we need a little 'I Dream of Jeannie' to lighten things up."

Ziva raised her eyebrows in interest as Tony put the new disc in and they settled back to enjoy the show.

**NCIS**

Several hours later they'd been through a smorgasbord of old TV shows. After several episodes of Tony's first choice, they switched to Green Acres, then Family Affair and I Love Lucy with a couple Petticoat Junctions, and a little Bewitched thrown in to even everything out. Tony was relieved to hear Ziva laugh eventually, but by early afternoon she declared that she was bored of TV.

"I have never watched this much television in my life!" she announced finally.

Tony, who couldn't see ever getting tired of anything playing on the small screen, was nevertheless up for whatever else Ziva had in mind. "Okay, well, what do you want to do?"

Ziva thought about it for a minute. "You said you have cards?"

Tony grinned. "Yes Ma'am...uh, Zi," he amended when she leveled a steely glare at him.

He jumped up and rummaged through the shelf in his entry closet and Ziva took the opportunity to take their plates back to the kitchen and start water running in the sink so they could soak. She returned with two glasses of mango juice just as Tony produced a pack of cards from the mildly unorganized closet. The phone rang before he could even shout triumphantly and he frowned disappointedly.

"You've got Tony," he said brightly upon answering the phone. "Oh, hey Abs, how's your Saturday so far?" He listened for a moment and snorted. "Lucky you. That's sleeping in compared to the time my roommate gets up." He glared good-naturedly at Ziva and she just smiled back.

"Yeah, Ziva's right here, just a sec." Tony held the phone out. "She wants to talk to you."

Surprised, Ziva took the phone. "Hello Abby." She smiled as she listened to the Goth's chatter and bit her lip. "Yes, that does sound like fun. I do not know, hold on and I will ask."

She put her hand over the phone. "Tony, do we have plans for today?"

Tony still had to fight the smile that wanted to come every time Ziva said 'we' and how natural it sounded to him, like that's the way it should be, the two of them doing things together. He shrugged. "My plans include staying in sweats and on my couch for as long as possible." He raised one eyebrow. "Why? You and Abby want to do something?"

Ziva shrugged helplessly. "I am not sure."

Tony laughed. "Here, give it to me. Let's see if we can figure things out."

He put the phone to his ear. "Me again Abs. Ziva and I are kind of planning a laid back day. But we were just about to bust out a new pack of cards. Do you and Probie want to come over and play for awhile?" Tony threw a questioning look at Ziva, checking to make sure that was alright with her. She nodded.

Wincing as Abby's voice got a little more shrill, Tony shook his head. "No, I didn't know he was there Abby. I just figured it's Saturday, why wouldn't McGee be at your place?" He laughed. "Yes Abs, I have popcorn, but you'll have to bring your own licorice and chocolate."

Tony listened some more, and waited while she consulted with Tim, silently gloating over the fact that he was right and the probie was at her place. "Half an hour? Sounds good to me. Bring your old TV show requests, it's retro weekend. That'll be our background noise."

Abby said something else that sounded like a question and Tony closed his eyes. "No you can't bring music Abby. Why? Because I want to be able to hear myself think." He rubbed his forehead. "Of course I love your music Abs, but in the lab at work, okay? Not in my livingroom." Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Bert is welcome to come if he wants, but I draw the line at Jethro." He laughed. "I'm sure Bert does enjoy his company but there's only non-living, breathing animals allowed here."

Chuckling, he shrugged at Ziva and she had to smile, knowing one only ended a conversation with Abby when she was done talking. "Definitely," he said at last. "You'll always be my favourite Abs. Every guy should be so lucky to have a little sister like you." He grinned. "Alright, see you in a bit. Bye."

Hanging up, he had to laugh. "Gotta love Abby."

Ziva nodded. "Yes." She thought back to her time in the lab earlier that week. "She is very special."

"So are you," Tony told her seriously before clearing his throat and unwrapping the plastic covering on the box of cards. "Well Ms. David, care to tell me what your favourite card game is?"

**NCIS**

Half an hour later Abby and McGee arrived and the afternoon became a party. Abby, who happened to love MacGuyver, voted on a few of those episodes, after which Tony and McGee surprisingly agreed on M*A*S*H as the next TV show. Then, feeling in a generous mood, Tony even threw on a Star Trek episode for his friend.

While the TV and it's multiple shows droned in the background, the group crowded around Tony's coffee table with various juices and caffeinated drinks, enough popcorn to feed a small army, a package of red licorice twists, and a small bowl of melted chocolate for dipping - Abby's favourite addition to any snack.

In the midst of all this and a lot of laughter, Tony, Ziva, Abby, and McGee each took turns teaching the others to play their favourite card games. The list was extensive. Ziva introduced the group to a two phase bidding version of Whist, as well as Yaniv, a draw and discard game that had recently become popular in Israel.

Tony, of course, with his love of betting, insisted on a hand of Poker and also a round of Presidents, but without the drinking. For Abby they split into teams for a friendly but competitive game of Euchre, and then some Blackjack. Tim went for simple with Crazy Eights and War, which they again played separately in pairs.

Eventually Tony and Abby started a popcorn fight and McGee and Ziva ducked into the kitchen to stay out of the way. They all helped clean up the mess later, watched one episode each of The Flinstones and The Jetsons as their cartoon fix, then one Scooby-Doo because the "boys" were appalled when Ziva didn't know who he was. They ended their fun afternoon/evening with a rowdy round of Go Fish. Abby and McGee left hand in hand with smiles on their faces, and Tony and Ziva stood to straighten things out and put Tony's livingroom back in order.

"That was fun," Ziva said with a smile, and Tony nodded in satisfaction. Anything that made her happy worked for him.

"Hard not to have fun with Abby around and all of us together," he agreed, flopping down on the couch when everything was back in place. "So, what now?"

Ziva settled on the arm of the couch. "Since I did not run this morning, I would like to go swimming tonight."

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, I guess I can't argue. You did what I wanted all day." He stood up. "Okay, let's go."

She eyed him with what might've been apprehension. "Are you coming too?"

Tony picked up his cell phone and shook it. "I'll be your chauffeur and watch from the sidelines, but I've got a high score at Tetris I need to beat, so I can't actually join you."

Ziva looked relieved and suddenly a thought occurred to Tony and he wondered how Ziva was going to feel wearing a swim suit when she had yet to even wear short sleeves around him, or any of them, since her return. His question was answered after they drove to a nearby hotel with a pay and swim policy.

It was 7:30 at night and they had the place to themselves. Ziva disappeared into the changeroom and Tony got comfortable on one of the chairs surrounding the pool. Several minutes later he looked up when Ziva came out and was surprised. The woman who once loved to show off her body now wore something completely different from the modest suit she had on the night Gibbs had him tail her.

Ziva's current outfit was a dark blue, full-body swim suit that zipped right up to her neck. He barely got a look at it before she lowered herself into the water and he turned away, feeling as if he'd invaded her privacy somehow. Despite his earlier declaration about catching up on his Tetris, Tony lost five games in a row as his eyes were drawn again and again to his partner, watching her strong, steady movements and counting the number of laps.

For the first ten laps no one would've been able to tell that the woman in the pool wasn't in top physical condition. She swung her arms gracefully, turned every three strokes to breathe, and did a perfect somersault each time she reached one end of the pool, using the wall to push off again.

After twelve laps though, Ziva's strokes began to get slower. By fourteen she was definitely lagging and Tony was getting concerned. Deciding it was time to intervene, he stood at one end of the pool, waiting for her to come up for air when she reached the wall. Then he tapped her on the head before she could flip over and start again.

"Ziva," he called. She lifted her goggles and looked at him. "Why don't you call it a night?" Tony suggested.

She frowned. "I used to do thirty laps in this time."

Tony lowered himself to the pool deck. "Zi," he said, his voice gentle, "you're three weeks out of a nightmare that left you tied to a chair for as many months. Give yourself some time to come back from that."

Ziva fidgeted with the collar on her suit. "I just want to be the way I was." It was quite an admission for her. Ziva was determined to get better, physically at least, as soon as possible. But her mind, her memories, were another story entirely.

He smiled. "I've got chocolate ripple ice cream and a whole season of Xena episodes just begging to be watched." Tony saw her resolve weakening and tugged at one of the wet curls falling around her face. "Come on Warrior Princess, let's go home."

It made Ziva uneasy the way the word sounded on Tony's lips. Like safety and permanence - things she didn't have a right to hope for. But Ziva nodded anyways, because whether he should or not, Tony cared about her and Ziva didn't want to make him worry more.

On shaking arms she pulled herself out of the pool, grateful that Tony did not try to help. She still needed to do things on her own. She headed for the changeroom, returning minutes later in comfortable clothes, her wet hair leaving a damp spot on the back of her shirt.

As they left the building, Tony held out his hand, and the action was so open, so natural, that Ziva slipped her hand into his before she even had a chance to think about it. She released it as soon as they reached his car, but not before she saw the slight smile gracing Tony's face.

Her heart leapt but immediately Ziva quashed the feeling._ He should not care so much_, she told herself sternly. _He does not know what they did_.

**NCIS**

After Xena had brought down an angry, awakened god, and Ziva had only eaten half of her still melting ice cream, Tony looked at her. "You gonna finish that?"

Ziva shook her head and handed her bowl over without comment, glancing at Tony's empty bowl sitting on the coffee table. He'd already devoured three large scoops of his Smartie ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup. _Where does he put it all?_ she wondered.

The credits began to roll and Tony glanced at the clock. "Time to turn in," he announced to Ziva. "Back to work tomorrow."

She nodded, not arguing. Whether Ziva wanted to admit it or not, the swim had worn her out and bed was sounding better all the time. Dropping their dirty bowls in the sink, Tony chose to worry about dishes later. He walked Ziva down the hall and had to resist the urge to brush his knuckles down her cheek, settling for a smile instead.

"'Night Zi."

Assuming she'd be seeing him shortly and wondering how long he would keep coming up with ridiculous excuses instead of just walking into the room with her, Ziva merely nodded and closed the door. After ten minutes of laying impatiently on the couch, Tony couldn't wait any longer and made his way back down the hall to what used to be his room.

Tapping on the door, Tony stuck his head in and grinned at Ziva. "Okay, my livingroom is officially haunted." He shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

Ziva smiled, covering over the emotions swirling within her. As Tony took his place on the floor, a wave of relief washed over Ziva. She loved knowing that he would be right there when she needed him. But she wasn't sure what to do with her feelings for him. He was her partner, her best friend. She didn't have a right to expect him to be more.

**NCIS**

The nightmares started around midnight, less than two hours later. As usual, Tony was right there beside her the moment he noticed her distress, brushing back her hair and settling her side against his chest. Ziva pushed at him, the initial confusion and desperation to be free winning over momentarily, but Tony only tightened her arms around her and kept whispering in her ear.

Her struggle died down and this time she let him hold her for more than just a minute once she was fully coherent. Listening to Tony's steady heartbeat under her ear, feeling his long fingers gently caress her hand, having his strong arm at her back - again she couldn't help that when he held her like this she felt safe, like she could breathe, like maybe this time the nightmares wouldn't win.

But even with Tony's presence, the nightmares returned at 0400 and Ziva didn't want to go back to sleep. She didn't waste time fighting him when he wrapped his arms around her, but turned herself into his chest and clung to his shirt as salty tears she tried to hold back escaped and left their mark on him.

Tony rubbed her back slowly until she jerked away. At his concerned look, Ziva tried to explain without really saying anything. "Please do not do that Tony," she whispered.

He grabbed hold of her hand, exerting a serious amount of control to keep from pressing it to his lips. "Why Zi?" he asked hoarsely, needing to know he wasn't going to lose all the progress they'd been making the last couple of days.

Ziva looked away, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Not everything is healed yet."

Tony's eyes widened and then closed as he absorbed her words. "Did I hurt you Ziva?"

She didn't want to tell him that the scars on her back hurt both physically and emotionally, so she merely nodded, unable to share the rest. "But you did not mean to," she said softly, meeting his eyes. "I am alright."

He wanted to touch her, to hold her, but not at the risk of aggravating any of her injuries. "What can I do Zi?" Tony hated feeling helpless.

Ziva took a deep breath, and with it a chance that for tonight he could be what she needed. "Make me feel safe." She settled herself back against his chest, holding her breath as Tony hesitated, and then carefully positioned his arms around her again. Ziva sighed and matched her breathing to his. Things were still very hard, but for right now in this moment, she felt okay. She just wished it could last for more than one night.


	9. Chapter 9

Tony insisted on joining Ziva for her run the next morning, not that she had any intention of complaining. She knew that once her workouts progressed past two miles, he would have to drop out. Tony's lungs wouldn't appreciate the strain. The first several hours of the day were quiet, as has been the norm lately, and it didn't take the team long to catch up on their paperwork.

When Gibbs left for coffee, Ziva realized she hadn't eaten for awhile and headed to the break room. It was still strange to her that she could now have food whenever she wanted. Some days, some weeks at the terror camp she had been given barely enough food to survive.

She thought for sure she should've starved to death several times during her captivity. But they'd always made her eat again just before death could release her from her suffering. The one time she'd refused to eat what they brought her, the punishment had been so severe she never tried to resist that way again. It was not worth the pain.

However, faced with the choices available, Ziva's stomach began to turn and she opted for making tea instead. She was just adding sugar when McGee joined her, holding up his empty coffee mug when she looked over her shoulder, tensing as she heard his footsteps.

"Need a refill," he told her with a smile.

Ziva returned the gesture, relaxing. Tim was an easy man to be around. He respected her boundaries but somehow managed to offer silent support, just as he had lying on the floor behind their chairs the day Saleem died. Pouring a fresh cut of the strong, black brew, Tim leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee, waiting for her to finish. When Ziva turned towards him, McGee eyed her carefully.

"How are you Ziva?"

Startled, having not expected the question, Ziva's eyes widened. "I am fine McGee."

He tilted his head to the side, his clear green eyes not quite believing. "You're talking to a guy who spent two weeks learning what your nightmares look like. Care to try again?"

Ziva sighed, her gaze flickering to the side. "Nothing has changed in that regard. Except Tony is learning to wake me sooner." She tasted her tea, appreciating the hot beverage even if the weather outside was still nice.

"And the rest?" Tim asked carefully, genuinely caring about her answer. "It was good to hear you laugh yesterday. I've missed you being happy."

"I do not know if I will ever be the same person you knew McGee," Ziva said slowly. "But I will always be your friend." She hesitated, then touched his shoulder lightly. If she was going to try to get back to normal, McGee seemed a safe place to start. "Thank you Tim," she said quietly.

McGee knew instinctively not to move when she reached out. Ziva had been extremely leery of being touched since they got her back from Somalia. He could only imagine taking initiative was a big step for her. So he just smiled, glad that she was here.

"And what of you and Abby?" Ziva asked, wanting the attention off herself. She cradled her mug in both hands.

Tim's eyes softened. "It's been three weeks. We're taking things slow." He shrugged one shoulder and gave her a half-smile. "Abby's been the only reason I don't have nightmares. There isn't as much room in my head for the bad thoughts with her around. It's nice, being back together."

Ziva lifted one eyebrow. "But you are sleeping with her, no?"

McGee almost choked on his drink and coughed a few times to clear his throat. He shook his head. "Not the way you mean. We're literally just sleeping, falling asleep, together."

She was quiet for a moment. "I am glad you have each other."

Tim heard the longing in her voice and jerked his head towards the squadroom. "From what I can see, you and Tony have each other too, right?"

Her expression was infinitely sad, something McGee didn't quite understand. "Tony is slowly becoming my best friend again McGee, but it can never be with us the way it is with you and Abby."

McGee shook his head. "Why not? Tony cares about you, a lot. You should've seen what he was like when you left. I've never seen him so serious and so hurt."

"Not even after Jeanne?" Ziva wished hearing the name of Tony's ex-girlfriend did not make her feel something that could be labeled jealousy, if she was anyone else.

Tim took it for the honest query it was. "Jeanne was different. She asked him to choose between his family here and her. She didn't accept him for who he was." He sent her a meaningful glance. "That's a problem you've never had Ziva, and Tony knows that."

Before there was time to let herself hope, Ziva looked away and sighed. "It does not matter. Tony and I can only be friends."

"I don't know about that-" McGee started, but then her eyes flashed and he saw a brief glimpse of the old Ziva, frustrated and passionate.

"I know Tim," she said forcefully. "There is much you do not know. Please, do not ask me again." Ziva looked down at her tea, not longer able to think about putting something in her stomach. "We should get back to work."

Never mind that they didn't currently have any work to do, Ziva hurried back to the squadroom as if there was a hot case. McGee watched her go with a sad expression on his face. He wasn't sure if he should tell Abby about their conversation or not. Ziva was obviously still a long way from okay.

When he entered the bullpen a minute later, Tony threw him a questioning glance, nodding at Ziva who was now steadfastly ignoring both of them. McGee sighed silently and shook his head once. He certainly didn't want to get into what Ziva had said with Tony.

McGee might not always have caught everything that was going on, but he knew for sure that Tony more than cared about Ziva. In fact, he was pretty sure Tony loved her. If he had to bet on it, Tim would put money on Tony wanting more with Ziva, someday. McGee could only hope she would change her mind and eventually want the same thing, for both their sakes. He wanted his friends to be happy, preferably together.

**NCIS**

For the sake of her sanity, Ziva was very glad when the team got a minor case that afternoon. Though she was sad to see them leave without her again, Ziva was kept busy researching the corrupt owner of a company that shipped supplies to the Naval Base at Little Creek.

It wasn't long before the guys were back with a suspect in custody, Marty Vale, the owner's assistant. Between Gibbs' interrogation of the frightened man, Ziva's research, and McGee doing some magic on the computer, they had the man himself in handcuffs without much delay, and Tony, Ziva and McGee got to leave at a decent hour for once.

Back at Tony's, Ziva slipped off her shoes and stood in the kitchen, looking at the contents of the fridge and freezer. "Fish tonight?" she asked Tony.

He tried to keep his eye roll from being obvious. She was definitely going all health-nut on him. "Sure," Tony called from the livingroom, where he was choosing the evening's entertainment.

"Can you make the salad?" Her next question interrupted his deliberation between two mystery/action double features.

Going with the "eenie-meenie-minie-moe" system of decision making, Tony dropped two DVDs on the coffee table. "Of course I can make salad. I am the salad master. You just wait until you try my salad Miss Sous-Chef-at-a-fancy-Greek-restaurant. I am all over the salad making."

Ziva hid her grin. "Thank you."

Once again, the time it took to make dinner was time Tony enjoyed spending with Ziva in his small kitchen. They moved around each other, always anticipating what the other needed and offering suggestions whether they were needed or not.

"You are going to add lemon to that, right?" Tony asked Ziva when the aroma of cooking fish began to fill the air. He noticed she turned the fan on and wondered if something about the smell was bothering her.

A little while later Ziva looked over his shoulder, her chin nearly brushing his shirt. "That is a lovely bowl of...lettuce," she commented. "Do you have any carrots? Maybe cucumbers? Vegetables are very good in salad."

Tony frowned at her and went back to the fridge. "I would've thought about that." He shrugged. "I was just starting with the basics." In truth, he rarely ate salad when fries were an option and had been standing there staring into the bowl for two whole minutes trying to remember what came next.

Finally their meal was ready and to Tony, it looked delicious. His mouth watered as they followed what was now a comfortable routine. Food onto plates, plates to livingroom, back for drinks and cutlery, movie in, and bon appetit! Tony grinned as he showed Ziva the DVD cover for the first film.

"National Treasure. Nicholas Cage and the secret history of the United States. You'll love this one Ziva, it's very..." he searched for the word, "fascinating." He glanced sideways at her. "You like Sherlock Holmes, right?" Ziva raised one eyebrow at him. "Saw you reading it once," Tony shrugged the observation off. "This is like...Sherlock Holmes for the twenty-first century."

Ziva smiled and lifted her fork for her first bite of fish. It was tender, flaky, and just the right amount of crisp. But she only got to savour the taste for a moment. Ziva had barely swallowed when all of a sudden something didn't feel right and she bolted for the bathroom.

It was very reminiscent of her first night and Tony was immediately concerned, setting his food down and hurrying after her. "Zi?" She was kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, trying to hold her hair back as she gagged into the bowl.

"Oh Ziva," he said softly, crouching down beside her and taking the curly hair from her hands, twisting it together to keep it away from her face.

Without even thinking about it Tony began to rub small circles into her back. Ziva flinched when he first touched her, but seemed to relax a little as he continued the gentle motion. Finally she was finished and sat back. Tony stood to run the towel beside the sink under water, handing it to her so she could wipe her mouth.

"Thank you Tony," she whispered.

Tony helped her up and lead her back to the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass and filling it with water. Ziva took it gratefully, ready to rinse the horrid taste from her mouth.

"Was it the fish?" he asked, glancing at their plates. "I'm sure I checked the date when we bought it. They should still be good."

Ziva shook her head and smiled weakly. "To be honest, I think it was something about the small. And I have been feeling wheezy today anyways."

Tony frowned before he caught her meaning. "Oh, queasy, right." They sat down. "Do you think you caught a bug?"

Ziva looked at him in confusion. "I have not seen any bugs. I do not understand."

Rolling his eyes, Tony chuckled. "Not a bug like an insect Ziva. A bug as in a virus."

Comprehension dawned in her eyes and Ziva shook her head again. "No. It is the..." she hesitated and looked away, "...memory of certain things that bothers me occasionally."

Tony was concerned. "Memory?"

"This is not the first time a smell has made me sick Tony," Ziva wished she hadn't brought it up but it was too late to take her words back now. She sighed and drew one knee up to her chest.

"When I first returned, everything reminded me of Somalia - sounds, footsteps, certain accents, dark rooms. For three days I barely left Gibbs' guest room and the lights were never off. But then I returned to NCIS and it was the smells I noticed." Ziva played with a loose thread on the edge of the sofa cushion.

"What kind of smells Zi?" Tony prompted. He hadn't realized how much she'd been able to hide from them.

She shrugged. "Abby's Caf-Pow, Gibbs' coffee..." she trailed off, not meeting his eyes. "Your cologne." Ziva tapped his hand lightly with one finger. "Do not worry Tony. Shall we watch your movie now?"

Well aware that Ziva was changing the subject, Tony let her, his mood much more solemn after hearing her admission. It hurt to think that normal, everyday things they never would've given a second thought to, had caused Ziva to remember when she'd been held captive.

After awhile, he let out a breath and realized Ziva was looking at him. So he faked interest in the movie he no longer cared about watching and picked up his plate again. He tried the fish carefully and realized that in some ways nothing had changed, Ziva was still an amazing cook.

He turned to tell her so, and what he saw bothered him. Ziva's eyes were fixed on the screen but she probably wasn't seeing the movie. And she was only eating the salad on her plate, plain, with no dressing, and very, very slowly, chewing each bite an unnecessary number of times. That's when Tony realized that for her, Somalia was back and he could only imagine what that would mean for tonight.

**NCIS**

Even though Ziva's attention was somewhat divided, she agreed to watch the second National Treasure movie with him as well. Partway through the movie Tony took their plates to the kitchen and cleaned up a bit before returning with a cup of tea just the way she liked it. He'd heard it was good for upset stomachs.

Ziva smiled at him in surprise and thanks, and didn't move when Tony settled closer to her cushion than he had been before. Tony was glad for every sign that Ziva was letting him get closer, though it was hard not to rush things. He knew she needed time to heal, but loving her when he couldn't cross any lines, couldn't even speak the words, was one of the most difficult things he'd done. Yet Tony knew he'd wait for Ziva, even if it took a hundred years.

When the movie was over, he shut everything off and Ziva locked the door. Together they walked down the hall and without a word, entered the bedroom together. After taking a deep breath, Tony joined Ziva in the bathroom to brush his teeth, then left so she could change, putting on his own pyjamas in the other bathroom.

By the time Ziva came back into the room, Tony was already laying on his pile of blankets, arms under his head, staring at the ceiling as if this was nothing unusual. Ziva stood and watched him for a moment before a small smile claimed her lips and she crawled under the covers on the bed.

She stretched out and got comfortable, settling with her back to Tony. With him there when she closed her eyes, it felt like nothing bad could happen. Tony didn't say a word but Ziva still felt his care and briefly wondered if McGee was right. There was a lot actions could say that words did not. And Tony's actions said that if she needed him, he would be there.

**NCIS**

Three hours of sleep later Ziva's nightmares intruded on the rest she so desperately needed. Tony was at her side in what seemed like an instant and after her initial struggle, the seconds it took for her mind to transition from Somalia to DC and being in Tony's bedroom, Ziva didn't protest when Tony kept his arms around her.

For Tony's part, holding Ziva was the only thing that convinced him that she was here, that she was real, that she was alive. So when she let him keep her close, Tony pressed a soft kiss to her hair and settled against the headboard, content not to move.

He kept expecting that after a minute, after two, after five, Ziva would find the closeness too much and ask him to let go, it was the moment he dreaded. He hated her nightmares with a passion, but they were so far his only chance to have that kind of contact with her. Tonight though, that moment never came.

As time slipped by, Tony began to debate with himself. He loved holding Ziva, but what if that wasn't what she needed? What if she was tolerating it because she knew how desperately he wanted to have an excuse to touch her? On the other hand, what if because she hadn't asked him to let go, it meant she was secretly begging him to hold on? What if he was the only one who could make her feel safe? It was Gibbs' order, after all. And yet Tony would've taken the mission on all by himself.

Finally, exhausted from little sleep and too much thinking, Tony just closed his eyes for a second. The next thing he knew, he was awake. He cast around for the clock, squinting to make out where the hands were. Quarter after four? He'd been asleep for almost an hour!

Tony found that his arms were still around Ziva, who had rolled onto her side and was breathing deeply, using her arm as a pillow. Now he had a problem. If Ziva woke up and found a man in her bed, he was likely to be injured before she realized what was going on. Of course, the issue right now was getting off the bed without waking up the sleeping former assassin. Not just for his own safety, but because she seriously needed the sleep.

First things first, he took note of his position. While sleeping, he'd slouched down and was laying more behind Ziva now. His left arm was almost under her side, the other was draped over her waist. One of her legs had curled over his, and her hair was tickling his face. But it smelled like Ziva, like sunshine and coconuts, so he didn't mind.

All in all, Tony was pretty comfortable, considering. Truth be told, he could've stayed by her side all night and been perfectly happy. But this was about Ziva, not him. To get untangled enough to move without waking her would be a complicated process that had to be taken one step at a time.

Tony started with his legs. Slowly, very slowly, he eased his right leg out from under Ziva's, holding his breath and waiting once free to make sure he hadn't disturbed her. Next came his semi-trapped arm. Again, deliberate, unhurried movement was the key.

It didn't actually take much to slip his arm away from her back, and Tony was thankful again when she didn't seem to notice. His other arm was last. Carefully, he lifted the arm encircling Ziva's waist and held it against his side. He froze when Ziva stirred but to his relief she stayed asleep.

Finally Tony was able to slide gently off the bed. He didn't draw a full breath until he was laying back on his blankets. But no matter how good his intentions, Tony wasn't able to shake how right it felt for them to be together like that, for him to be taking care of Ziva, protecting her even in sleep.

In the safe cocoon of dreamless sleep, though she knew it wasn't possible, Ziva still felt Tony's arms around her and was amazed at how safe that made her feel. It had been months since having a man that close had evoked something other than revulsion, fear, and dread in her. But with Tony, somehow she knew it was unnecessary to feel those things. Tony had never physically hurt her, even when he'd been angry with her. Try as she might, Ziva could not recall a single time she'd felt threatened by him.

With a sigh, she settled deeper into sleep, curling her arms around her pillow and enjoying the illusion that Tony could be her hero, that if he stayed beside her the nightmares could not come. It wasn't until she opened her eyes to the light of a new morning that Ziva realized she hadn't dreamed again.


	10. Chapter 10

When Ziva woke up on Tuesday morning, she smiled. It was the first night in days that the dreams had only touched her sleep once. Stretching, she sat up and slid out of bed, quietly beginning the process of getting ready. She came out of the bathroom minutes later, putting her hair in a low ponytail, and Tony's sleepy voice reached her from across the room.

"Goin' for a run?"

Ziva nodded and looked at him. "Are you coming?"

Tony groaned and got up. "Two minutes," he said heavily, and Ziva stifled a smile and the urge to run her fingers through his hair, which was sticking up in every direction.

True to his word, Tony exited the bathroom in jogging clothes just as Ziva was lacing up her shoes. They headed downstairs and Tony followed Ziva's lead, letting her set the pace and direction. They ran in silence because Tony's brain wasn't ever awake at 0530 and Ziva preferred to concentrate, putting her whole self into her run.

After awhile, Tony realized that Ziva had long surpassed the one mile Ducky had approved her for. As they circled back to his building, he tried to calculate the distance - they must've gone just over two miles today. His lungs were starting to protest and Tony was having difficulty drawing a full breath, those he did make sounded a little wheezy. Reluctantly Tony had to admit, as he watched his partner stretch and cool down, that he might have to let her go alone next time. As much as he would like to, Tony knew he couldn't be around Ziva every second.

Work today was a blur of routine and same old. But what was monotonous to the rest of the team was such a comfort to Ziva. After months away, it was good to see that so much hadn't changed, that the world she'd come back to was still familiar, even if she was no longer the same woman who had left it.

Ziva felt Tim's eyes on her several times throughout the day. She appreciated his concern, and knew that their conversation yesterday, especially the part about Tony, had bothered him. But she trusted McGee as her friend to keep her words just between them. Not today, but maybe someday, she'd be strong enough to tell him the 'whys' behind her declaration that she and Tony would only ever be friends.

Tony seemed to sense her pensive mood and at the end of the day when they'd said goodnight, he took Ziva's hand in his as the elevator doors closed. To his relief she only looked at him and smiled a little before turning her eyes back to the numbers counting down. She didn't let go until they reached his car.

Once they entered his apartment, Tony tossed his backpack into a corner and pointed Ziva towards the livingroom. "Sit, relax," he ordered. "It's my turn to cook." Ziva raised an eyebrow at him and Tony crossed his arms. "Hey, don't give me that look lady, I can cook."

She shrugged one shoulder. "If you have a takeout menu and a phone."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, grinning wickedly.

Ziva shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "Of course not. I know you can make salad."

"That's it!" Tony glared. "You are hereby banished from the kitchen and I'm going to create a masterpiece meal that will make you eat your words." She frowned at the expression she didn't understand and Tony sighed. "I'm going to prove you wrong. Now shoo."

"Does that mean I get to choose tonight's film Tony?" Ziva asked, already knowing his answer.

"Umm..." Tony faltered. He'd already picked the theme. "No. I'm in charge of everything tonight. Just go...read your book or something."

"Maybe I will," Ziva replied, walking gracefully back down the hall towards the bedroom.

Tony watched her go, admiring her form, before shaking his head and turning back to his cupboards. _Focus DiNozzo_, he told himself sternly, _it's time to prove your words_.

**NCIS**

For a long time Ziva lay on her stomach on the bed, slowly turning page after page in her favourite book as once again she followed the story of Jean Valjean and Cosette. After awhile she looked up because of the smell floating down from the kitchen. Curious, Ziva wandered back down the hall to where Tony stood in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot. He looked at her and grinned.

"Ah, Lady Ziva," Tony said, using the title Mike Franks had bestowed on her, "just in time." He poured the food from the pot into two shallow bowls and Ziva smiled. Of course it would be something with pasta. He handed her one of them and a glass of milk. "Dinner is served."

Ziva smiled. "It smells good," she had to concede, following him to the couch.

"Tastes even better," Tony told her confidently, whipping three movies off his shelves before she even got settled. "It's dance movies tonight," he said with significance, though she didn't understand his meaning.

Tony slid the first one into his DVD player and Ziva waited for the title to appear. "Footloose?" she asked.

He suppressed a groan. How had she never seen it? It had been his mom's favourite movie and young Anthony DiNozzo had seen the movie ad nauseum. But he liked it now because it reminded him of the good times with his mother. "Let's just say it's a classic and leave it at that," Tony suggested, sucking a long, flat noodle off his fork. "So," he asked when she'd taken a bite, "what do you think?"

Ziva smiled and nodded. "Il tuo pollo alfredo è magnifico," she told him in Italian.

Tony grinned. "Grazie."

Dirty Dancing followed Footloose and Ziva picked the smarties out of Tony's ice cream dessert, eating them one by one until he pouted like a little boy and moved to the far side of the couch until he was finished every last drop. During Step Up however, was when Ziva really started paying attention. She watched the dancers carefully, her eyes fixed on their every move. Sometimes she just closed her eyes and listened to the music, but a couple times Tony caught her swaying slightly to the beat as if she wanted to join in.

He wished just telling her it was okay to dance would give her the freedom to do it. But more than just permission was holding Ziva back. He'd never seen her so unsure. Beautiful, confident, fearless Ziva was now beautiful, hesitant, timid Ziva, and the change was a lot to cope with. Tony just hoped that someday she'd get her confidence back, get herself back. He had a feeling they both missed the old Ziva.

It was late by the time the movie was finished and Tony and Ziva cleaned up from supper quickly and stored the leftovers in his fridge before heading to bed. They did the same careful dance as the night before when it came to getting ready and as Tony laid down, he checked his watch.

"Can you believe it's been a week since you came?"

Ziva rolled over in bed and looked down at him. "Has it?" she asked in surprise. Once she was here it hadn't seemed important to measure the days. "Are you sorry?"

Tony frowned. "That I offered my place? No way Zi, I'm thrilled to have you here. It can get lonely with just me. Seriously," he added, "you can stay as long as you want."

Her eyes softened and she leaned her head against her hand. "Thank you Tony," Ziva said slowly. "I am glad we are friends again."

"Me too," Tony said after a moment, swallowing hard. Although it meant a lot to hear say so, he wanted to be so much more than just her friend. _Patience Tony_, he ordered. Some things would just have to wait. "Good night Zi."

"Laila tov," she replied, laying back down.

**NCIS**

It was 0230, only a little more than an hour after they'd gone to bed. Tony jerked awake when he heard the quiet moaning that he recognized as Level 2 on his system for measuring Ziva's nightmares. Level 3 was when she screamed, at Level 1 she was only restless. As he crawled up behind her on the bed, using his words and gentle hands to try to soothe rather than startle her awake, Tony was sorry he'd missed the warning signs.

"Zi, shh," he said quietly. "It's okay honey." The endearment slipped out before Tony even realized he was thinking it, and he hoped she wasn't awake yet. "I promise," he whispered, "it's going to be okay."

Ziva flailed then, her legs kicking out, the sudden movement waking her up. She tensed as she registered his arms around her, but then she recognized his touch, his scent, and relaxed. As soon as she did, Tony tightened his hold on her, rocking Ziva a little as he pressed his face into her hair.

"I hate watching you go through this Zi," Tony whispered, not sure if she was listening.

Slowly, Ziva's left hand moved to rest on his arms around her waist. "It is good that you are here," she said, and her soft admission made Tony wish he never had to let her go. He wanted to hold her like this all the time, to keep her safe always and not just twice a night.

Tony leaned back against the pillows and headboard and it was several minutes before Ziva recognized his slow, deep breaths as the kind that told her he was asleep. She thought about how safe she'd felt last night and wondered if maybe it hadn't been a dream that she'd felt his arms still, maybe this had happened before.

But Ziva didn't mind, and she rested her head back against Tony's chest, enjoying the way she trusted him like this, liking the security of his body against hers, so unlike any of the men at the camp who had been this close. The thought made her shudder and Ziva forced her mind away from the memories.

It was not that much later when Tony stirred, and she felt his eyes on her. But Ziva held still, kept her eyes closed and her breathing even, and waited to see what he would do if he thought she was sleeping. Slowly and very carefully, to the extent that if she was truly sleeping Ziva might not have noticed, Tony slid his body away from hers, pulled the covers up to her shoulder, and took two steps across the floor to his temporary bed.

Ziva wondered if she had a right to be disappointed that he'd moved, and she realized then that something had changed, that Tony had come to mean more to her heart than just a good friend if she wanted him to stay beside her for more than just a minute when her nightmare was over.

**NCIS**

The hours of the next day melded together and became a blur, almost as if someone had pressed the fast forward button on life's remote. Before Ziva knew it, it was time for bed again. The length of time Tony held her after the nightmare was shorter tonight, but she felt the kiss he brushed against her hair before he left her for his bed.

At that moment Ziva made a decision. Tomorrow night would be different, she wanted it to be different. Because inside her something had changed that was scaring her. She needed Tony now and it made her vulnerable. And Ziva hated being vulnerable.

**NCIS**

Thursday morning Ziva was walking to the break room when Director Vance stepped into her path. "David, with me."

Ziva cast a quick glance at the bullpen, but only Gibbs was watching. His gaze didn't tell her anything so she turned and followed the man in charge up to his office. Once there, she stood in front of his desk while Leon sat down and handed her a folder. She opened it and frowned.

"Director?"

Vance steepled his fingers. "It's been three weeks since you got back. You need to complete your mandatory psyche eval. Sorry, I gave you as long as I could." Ziva nodded slowly and he leaned forward. "You're damaged goods David. How damaged I need to know before I can even begin to know what to do with your application to become an agent."

His words hit her hard and Ziva blinked to keep emotion away. Now was not the time. She felt as if Leon's gaze saw through all the layers she was using to hide her scars both inside and out. "Director." She took a step back and moved to leave.

"First thing Monday morning David. Don't be late. You only get one shot at this."

"I understand."

Ziva hurried down the stairs, wishing she had a place she could hide instead of her desk where she was exposed to her teammate's wondering eyes. Gibbs met her at the bottom and motioned her towards the alcove. His eyes asked the question and Ziva leaned against the orange wall before handing him the folder from Vance.

"It is nothing awful Gibbs. Just my mandatory psychological evaluation, session one of five. I start on Monday."

Gibbs skimmed over the paper, checking everything out. He handed the folder back to her and crossed his arms. "How are you, Ziva?"

She could hide nothing from him and Ziva knew her exhaustion was showing through the mask. "Gibbs?" she asked in a small voice. "Do the dreams ever go away?"

Looking at her then, Gibbs saw not his agent, but his daughter. Just like Kelly had and Abby did now, Ziva needed him. He ran his work roughened hand lightly over her dark curls, pleased when she didn't jerk away from his touch. She'd been less jumpy the last week and it was nice to see her making progress. But Gibbs knew better than to ask any questions.

"Eventually they come less," he answered honestly. "But not talking about it means they take longer to go away." Gibbs held her eyes. "You need to talk Ziver, you know where to find me." She opened her mouth but he held up one finger. "Take a minute. Then you and Tony go get Ducky's report on that body. Clear?"

Ziva nodded, gratefulness showing in her eyes. "Clear Gibbs. And thank you."

He almost smiled, then headed back to the bullpen. Tony eyed her with concern when she returned to her desk a minute later, but Ziva decided she would explain in the elevator. She did not want him to worry more.

**NCIS**

The movie Tony chose for their evening was called Ghost. He listed off the facts about Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore and Whoopi Goldberg, but it was the story Ziva paid the most attention to. But by the end, she almost wished she hadn't seen it. While she found the Henry the eighth song part amusing, the idea of two people so much in love being separated like that was more than Ziva wanted to think about just yet. She couldn't afford to be thinking like that.

They were quiet as they fell asleep, but when Tony held her after a nightmare at 0300, Ziva spent the whole time trying to find the right words. He didn't sleep this time and neither did she, but as soon as he left to go back to the floor, Ziva missed his warmth and comfort beside her, his strength and care as he tried to rescue her and keep her safe from her memories.

Taking a deep breath, Ziva dredged up the courage she'd been working on all day, to ask him to stay. Leaning up on one elbow, she looked at him, her head tilted to one side. "Is the floor not awfully hard Tony?" Ziva asked into the silence. "I do not think it is good for your back."

Tony was quiet for a long while, processing her words. He wanted so badly for her to be asking what he thought, but he also needed to not jump to conclusions where Ziva was concerned. "Probably," he agreed, searching her face to find his answer. Tony saw in her eyes the tentative invitation and loved her even more for being brave enough to make it. "Room up there?" he asked at last.

Ziva wasn't quite able to smile, but she nodded and scooched over so Tony could have his side and she could have hers. He settled gingerly beside her, not touching her, but so glad for the opportunity to be closer. Tony looked over at Ziva and smiled, then closed his eyes and relaxed.

It wasn't only the comfortable mattress he laid on that made him able to unwind, but because he knew he could reach her now if there was a problem. Sleeping beside Ziva, Tony would be able to wake her quicker, and maybe she wouldn't ever get as far as a full nightmare again.

On her side, Ziva remained absolutely motionless except for the occasional shivers she could not control. To have a man lying so close to her again, even though Tony was on top of the sheets and had brought his own blanket and was someone she trusted, was not an easy thing.

Memories of Somalia threatened to overwhelm Ziva. She heard the door of her prison cell slam closed, saw the thick darkness that did not bring her safety, felt a rough hand slide down her neck. Ziva put her hands over her ears and forced her eyes open, looking desperately around the room for something else to see. Finally, by sheer will, she sent the memories to the back of her mind and buried them deeply, drowning the fear they brought in the care Tony had been showing her this week.

Removing her hands from her ears, Ziva lay on her side and listened to Tony's breathing, taking in his scent, just like the blanket she'd been sleeping under, wanting to hold onto everything that was familiar about him. She did not want to be afraid of Tony any longer. She was so tired of being afraid.


	11. Chapter 11

When Ziva opened her eyes the next morning she noticed three things very quickly. One - she was no longer on her side of the bed. Two - it was not her pillow that she slept on. Three - she had not dreamed again in the remaining hours of the night.

Ziva took in everything without so much as twitching, realization hitting her with a shock that though she'd woken up with her head laying on Tony's shoulder, his arm held loosely around her back, the other hand resting on top of hers on his chest, she was not afraid.

She tried to recall the hours they'd slept, but it was obvious that Ziva hd not been aware of when it was that Tony had become her pillow, nor when he began holding her so carefully she couldn't help but feel safe. Frowning a little, Ziva wondered if they had unconsciously turned to each other for comfort and solace in their sleep, or if Tony's arm around her had been a deliberate decision.

What surprised her most was not their current position, but that finding him so close did not bring up any bad memories or make her want to move away immediately. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about it. Did that count as progress? How much things had changed in barely two weeks!

Last Monday morning she and Tony had not even really been talking, though she'd seen the longing in his eyes for what they used to share. Then she apologized in the bathroom, where they always seemed to have their serious conversations, and that night they became roommates.

Ziva had gone from hardly speaking to being able to share the familiar, friendly teasing with Tony again, and having short but meaningful conversations with her friends and co-workers. At the beginning of two weeks she still had not been able to stand touch, and now she was letting Tony's hands start to heal her fragile trust.

And whereas Tony started out the two weeks sleeping on the couch, running into the room in the middle of the night trying to rescue her from the nightmares, by degrees he'd started sleeping on the floor beside her for half the night, then a full night, and now she'd allowed him to share the bed with her. Though, Ziva reflected, this hadn't been exactly what she had in mind when she made the offer. She just wanted to feel safe.

Smiling, Ziva realized that in the position they currently were, there was no way she could move without waking Tony and she wondered if he'd done that on purpose. He wanted to know where she was, he wanted to be around, and while his new protective streak was sweet, Ziva wished there was a way to convince her partner that he shouldn't care so much.

She couldn't see the time, but judging by the cool light peeking through the curtains, Ziva guessed it was now past her usual time to run. So she would have to either try to leave now and shorten her distance, go later when it was warmer, or try the swimming pool again. But Ziva wasn't sure she could face that look in Tony's eyes when he saw the new swim suit she'd purchased. It was too caring to be pity, what she'd seen in his face last time, it was almost as if he hurt for her. And that was worse.

Taking a deep breath, Ziva relaxed into Tony's warmth and the security he offered even in sleep. She couldn't move, so she decided just to enjoy being held. This might be the only time it would happen and she wanted to remember what it felt like to be in Tony's arms.

**NCIS**

Tony woke up slowly, wishing he could stay asleep. His whole body was tired, the past two weeks of sleep deprivation wearing on him. Stifling a groan so he wouldn't wake Ziva, Tony was just about to stretch when he registered his position and the unfamiliar weight resting against him.

His eyes flew open and he saw Ziva looking at him. One of his arms encircled her back, his other hand lay overtop of hers on his chest. She was currently using his shoulder as a pillow. Tony's first reaction was one of fear. He knew what a stretch it had been just for Ziva to offer to share the bed with him, but to wake and find them like this must've freaked her out. And he didn't want them sleeping in the same bed to be just a one time thing.

Tony studied Ziva's eyes as the thoughts flew about wildly inside his head. There was no fear there. Uncertainty maybe, but not fear. He tried not to grin. This was his strangest morning after ever and he didn't know where to start or what to say. Finally Tony just went with something simple.

"Hey."

The uncertainty in Ziva's eyes was replaced with a sparkle of amusement. "Good morning Tony."

A little unsure, Tony knew the only way he'd get any answers out of her was to ask. "Are you okay?" He didn't really want to get more specific unless absolutely necessary.

Ziva moved away from him and slowly sat up, not comfortable having a conversation laying next to him now that they were both awake. Tony missed her warmth and weight instantly and wondered if that answered his question. "I was surprised," she told him. "But I am fine."

He sat up as well and looked away. "I don't think I did that on purpose Zi. I mean, it was nice but..." Tony faltered. "I don't remember."

Ziva shrugged. "I do not know either." She waited until Tony looked at her again. "But I did not dream again."

Tony's eyes lit up and he brushed his knuckles lightly down her cheek. "I'm glad." He was about to say something else, but caught a glimpse of the clock. "What? 0630? Geez, we're gonna be late if we don't hurry."

The awkward moment was over as both rushed to get dressed and ready for work. Tony tossed Ziva an apple on their way out the door, grinning when she caught it without even trying. It seemed that in small ways, some things were getting back to normal.

**NCIS**

Later that night after they returned from the pool where Ziva managed fifteen laps before Tony felt the need to convince her to call it a night, they sat on the couch with the original Men In Black playing in the background and Tony watched Ziva quickly plait her damp hair into a braid.

Feeling eyes on her, Ziva turned to look at Tony. "What?" she asked, seeing the interest there.

Tony coughed, his gaze jumping away from her. "Uh, nothing, I was just..." He looked back at her and pointed to the braid. "How do you do that?"

Ziva's brow wrinkled. "Braid?"

"Yeah." Tony chuckled. "Do all girls know how to do that?"

She fingered the ends of her hair and shrugged, speaking slowly. "I am not sure. I learned by practicing on Tali's hair." The corners of her mouth lifted. "Little sisters can be very compliant."

Chewing on his lip, Tony contemplated his next words. "Will you teach me?"

Ziva's eyebrows lifted. "You want to learn to braid?" Her tone was skeptical but Tony was completely serious.

"Yeah, I do," he said honestly.

Hearing the sincerity in his voice, Ziva nodded and pulled the elastic off the end of her braid, combing fingers through her hair until it was loose again. She sat with her back to Tony, in the middle of the couch, and separated the dark waves into three even sections.

"It is very simple but you may not get it on the first try," Ziva explained. "First you get three sections of hair. Then hold the outside two pieces in one hand. Pull the middle piece over to the side and bring the section farthest away overtop. Then bring the other side underneath."

As she spoke, Ziva demonstrated the motion several times, first slow, then faster, then slowly again. Finally she looked over her shoulder at him. "Do you want to try?"

Tony looked less confident than usual, but agreed. He tried to copy the position her fingers had been in as he separated her thick hair into the required three sections. His first few attempts failed, so Ziva gently took her hair back and showed him again. The next try his fingers were better at doing what they were supposed to and he felt a swell of satisfaction as Ziva's hair began to fall into the rough shape of a plait.

For her part, Ziva sat perfectly still, giving Tony pointers about how tightly to hold the sections, reminding him not to pull, and smiled at the concentration she could feel him putting into the lesson. Occasionally as he wove the sections of hair over, under, and through each other, Tony's fingers grazed her neck and Ziva tried hard not to react.

She was not prepared for how intimate the action of Tony braiding her hair was. While most men loved her wild curly hair, few had ever tried to play with it, and none had ever been as tender as Tony was now. When he finally made it to the bottom and ran out of hair, Ziva handed him the elastic, then reached back to check how he'd done.

Twisting back around, she smiled. "You did a very good job, for a beginner."

Tony grinned proudly. "It doesn't look half bad." He ran one finger down the braided hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful your hair is Ziva?"

Stifling her reaction, her senses already on alert from having his fingers in her hair, Ziva sat back, pretending to concentrate on the movie. "Thank you," she whispered without looking at him, after they'd been quiet for a minute. She didn't want to seem rude.

Tony could tell that the moment was over and he settled back himself, getting comfortable, a contented feeling spreading through him. Sitting there braiding Ziva's hair had felt normal, natural, like it fit. He'd had to stuff down the urge to bury his hands and face in her hair, to just take in the scent that could only be described at Ziva. He wanted to be closer to her, to always have her smiling at him when he woke up in the morning, and to be allowed to take the kind of liberties he had tonight, like playing with her hair.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Tony saw the dream he'd had, that someday this could be their life. Sitting on the couch watching TV at night, falling asleep together and waking up in each other's arms, sharing intimate moments like the one they just had. Only in his dream Ziva knew he loved her, she loved him back, and they belonged together, the rings on their left hands proof of that bond, a forever promise.

Satisfied, Tony smiled and decided to just enjoy her company. He couldn't get enough of moments like this.

**NCIS**

When the movie was over, Tony and Ziva again got ready for bed together, comfortable now with the routine. They met back beside the bed and Tony looked at her uncertainly. He cleared his throat.

"So uh...last night," he began, not exactly sure what to say, "was that a standing offer or a one-time deal?"

Ziva felt just as unsure, but she knew what she wanted, especially now that her two weeks at Tony's apartment were drawing to a close. She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. "If you want, it does not have to be just one time."

Tony tried to hide his grin. This was what he'd wanted all those other night as he lay on the couch or on the bedroom floor, waiting for the moment she would need him to come and save her from the memories that came alive in the darkest hours.

Trying not to look nervous, Tony went around to his side and lifted the covers to slide underneath. Ziva stood and watched him, not sure if she could actually get into bed with him. But Tony had never tried anything, not even on their undercover assignment as married assassins, though he'd joked about it a good deal. Biting her lip, Ziva crawled into bed, keeping as close to her side as she could without falling off of the bed.

Tony rolled over on his side and looked at her. "Ziva," he said quietly, "you don't have to be afraid of me. I won't touch you unless you want me to."

Ziva ran one hand through her now loose curls. "This morning?"

He propped his head up on one hand. "You weren't scared when we woke up together." A little frustrated now, Tony sighed. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable Zi. Say the word and I'll be back on the floor. I can't control what I do in my sleep."

She hadn't meant to imply that she didn't trust him. Ziva rolled carefully to her other side so she was facing him. "I am not afraid of you Tony, I am afraid of the memories that being close to you may bring up."

Tony tilted his head to the side, trying to understand. Looking away, Ziva wished she had said nothing. She had almost given away too much about Somalia. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. "I am fine Tony. It is nothing." Ziva tried to smile at him a little, so he wouldn't worry. "Good night."

She closed her eyes and Tony lay watching her, unable to decipher what had just happened. Finally he lay down again and tried to concentrate on falling asleep, instead of wishing that Ziva was closer beside him instead of as far away as she could get.

**NCIS**

Ziva tossed restlessly in her sleep, a faint moan escaping as the nightmare chased her back to the desert. Knives and needles, whips and shackles, naked, clothed, starving, but never allowed the release of death. She whimpered, and the sound alerted Tony to her distress.

Watching her nightmares when he lay beside her was so much different than being down the hall or on the floor nearby. Her delicately curved eyebrows were pinched tightly together, her face contorted as if in she was in pain. A sheen of sweat covered her face already, and Tony wondered how long she'd been fighting this time. Why hadn't he noticed sooner?

Unable to watch it for more than a few seconds without intervening, Tony scooted closer to her and brushed back her hair with one hand, the other moving to catch her wrists before she hit him out of reflex. "Ziva," he said softly, "come on, wake up." When she neither woke nor even responded to his voice, Tony moved his hand to her shoulder and shook her gently.

Ziva came out of the nightmare in a gasp, sitting straight up in bed and wrenching her hands away from Tony, who was not prepared for the sudden movement. He reached for her, wanting to comfort, but she held her hands out in front of her. That he was beside her meant he was already too close.

"No," she said hoarsely, still lost in the throes of the memories. "Do not touch me yet." Ziva closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, turning away from Tony in order to concentrate. Finally her straight posture wilted and she slumped back against the headboard. "I am fine."

Tony's expression was one of complete disbelief. "You are lying," he echoed. Testing her reaction, he reached out and rubbed one finger lightly over the back of her hand. Ziva's fingers curled into a fist, but she did not move away. "Will you let me hold you Ziva?" It was the only remedy he could think of, even if it was the last thing she wanted.

Having been given a choice, for one of the first times not waking already in his arms, Ziva shook her head slowly. "Not tonight Tony. I am sorry."

She still hadn't made eye contact with him and Tony was mystified about the change. Granted, usually he was holding her against him and couldn't see her eyes from that position, but still, this time it felt like something new, something different. But he had a chance now because she was still vulnerable, her shields and walls still lay in ruins and for once he might get an honest answer.

Taking a deep breath, Tony eyed the long-sleeved pyjama shirt that covered her skin. "Ziva, will you show me what they did to you?" He wasn't sure he was ready to know, but so many of these opportunities were now or never, he might not get the chance to ask again.

Ziva's gaze finally landed on him and he saw the horror behind her eyes before she let the shutters drop again, shutting him out of her fears and feelings. She slowly moved her head back and forth. "I cannot," she whispered.

"Why not Zi?" he asked, desperate for her to let him in, not just a little bit but all the way.

She looked away, ashamed of the state her body was in. Healing scars looked so much worse than old ones. "They are ugly," Ziva said softly.

"Oh Zi," Tony breathed her name like a caress, "nothing you show me is going to make me care for you any less. Please Zi, just let me see."

It took all of Ziva's courage to pull the sleeve of her Shannon pyjamas up to above her elbow. Because she already knew what was there, she did not look at the skin on her arm, where shiny burns marred her olive toned flesh, where lines crisscrossed over top of each other in the fight to inflict enough pain to make her talk. She did not want to see them again. Ziva had already memorized each mark, she knew the stories of how they came to be there, but she had never thought she would share them with anyone, ever.

Hearing Tony's sharp intake of breath as he took in the scars Somalia had left, Ziva chanced a glance at him, just in case she was wrong. The pain in her partner's eyes nearly stole her own breath. She reached for her sleeve, already shaking her head, trying to hold back her tears.

"I am sorry Tony. I should not have-"

He cut her off, stilling her hand. "Don't hide them Ziva," he said, holding her hand tenderly.

"But they are hurting you," she whispered, not liking how deep they were getting in.

Tony closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, locking his green eyes on her dark brown ones. "Just give me a minute, okay? I need to remember that you survived."

If it had been any other moment, any other event, any other year of their friendship, she might've kissed him just so he wasn't looking at her like that. But it was this moment, it was Somalia, and it was still too soon to try anything. Not that they'd ever be trying anything, but for a moment Ziva almost wished that it was possible for them to be more than just partners or friends. It was too dangerous to think about.

Tony's gaze roamed over her forearm again and again, fast and then slower, taking in each line, each mark, every bit of the skin that had been forced to withstand their tortures. If this was what they had done to just one of her arms, what in heck had they done to the rest of her body? Remembering Ziva's comment from earlier, the one she refused to clarify, Tony knew he would not be able to hear the truth now, even if she was able to tell him.

Slowly he lifted one finger, then looked at Ziva for permission. Reading his intent, she hesitated, then bit her lip and nodded jerkily. Tony started with the tender skin near her elbow, now stretched and shiny from a deep burn. Moving down a little, he let his finger wander over four long cuts that angled down her arm.

The amount of lines angered her and he wondered how much of her blood they had spilled because she refused to talk. Too much, by the looks of it. Shutting his eyes, Tony breathed a prayer of thankfulness that she had still been alive when they found her, because he could only guess how many times she had almost been dead. It was enough to make him want to throw up, but he bit back the bile and continued his exploration.

Tracing thick, jagged lines that went nearly all the way around her arm, Tony could only assume that something other than a blade had made them. His guess would be broken glass and he tried not to imagine the pain she had endured at the hands of madmen.

Closer to her wrist the scars became so numerous they almost blurred together. He could imagine that in five years, in ten, the marks would fade and become barely noticeable. But Tony knew that he would never forget what she had trusted him with this night, what she had let him see.

Desperate to make the pain of those memories go away, Tony pressed his lips to one of the raised lines without even thinking about it, falling back on the 'kissing is better' remedy that worked for children up to the age of six. Startled, Ziva jerked away from him, pressing her arm into her stomach, tears falling now because she'd never expected him to react this way. Why couldn't he just stop caring so much! It would make everything so much easier if he stopped looking at her like she was the sun and the moon, his world, his hopes and his dreams all rolled into one.

Upset with herself for reacting, Ziva did not look at Tony again. But he was still holding her hand and there was nowhere else to run. Finally her watery eyes found his again and she tentatively held out her arm to him again, giving in to the care he seemed to need to give.

Tony almost kissed her when Ziva bared her scars to him again, her trust nearly overwhelming him. It was all too much for three am, they were both tired and stressed and fighting against the feelings one wanted to deny and the other had to repress for now. It was a bad time to try to heal any of her hurts, but as he pressed a kiss to each of the remaining scars and rubbed his thumb over the marks to seal the kiss in, Tony knew that sometimes the worst time was actually the best time, because that's when healing was needed most.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: My profuse apologies dear readers! My muse inexplicably fled in the middle of this chapter and I was only just able to make it work today. But now it's up and I hope it is worth the wait. Just another snapshot from Tony and Ziva's two weeks as roommates. Thanks! :)_

Saturday morning looked a little different when Tony and Ziva woke up. They lay in the bed facing each other, the only part of them touching was their hands. Tony had never let go of Ziva's hand while she showed him just a few of her scars, and after awhile, Ziva realized she didn't want him to.

Again it was Ziva who opened her eyes first, smiling at the man who lay across from her, his mouth slightly open as he slept. Reaching over, Ziva barely touched Tony's face, then carefully disentangled her hand from his and got up to see to her run. When she arrived back at the apartment forty-five minutes later, she was not surprised to find her roommate still asleep, now sprawled out and taking over the entire bed. She shook her head at him and went to have a shower.

Ziva took her time in the shower, enjoying the luxury of hot, clean water and scented soap. Rarely had she been allowed to bathe in Somalia, and then it had been dirty water they'd thrown on her after she'd been stripped with others looking on. Just another method of humiliation.

Watching the water swirl down the drain, Ziva imagined the invisible filth of Somalia, all the dark memories, going down with it and washing away. She smiled as she thought about the weekend stretching before them, wondering what she and Tony would do this time.

Stepping out of the steamy shower, Ziva wrapped a towel around herself before rubbing her hair down and taking a brush to it. She was amazed that she could get ready like this and still be at ease, even though Tony was only in the next room, with just a closed door between them. Usually he did not stay in the bedroom while she showered and dressed.

The thought of getting dressed stopped Ziva short. Standing there in a towel she suddenly realized she forgot to bring her clothes into the bathroom. She looked around aimlessly, but no clothing magically appeared. Biting her lip, Ziva walked slowly to the door, turned the knob silently, and peeked through the crack.

Tony lay face down on the bed now, still dead to the world, his back moving rhythmically up and down as he breathed. Considering her options, Ziva realized she had none. But if Tony were to wake up and see her in just this, she would feel naked, more vulnerable that she had last night showing him only a few of her scars. Many more were visible now.

Deciding she had to take a chance, Ziva dashed out quickly, grabbed the duffle bag that lay near her side of the bed, and hurried back into the bathroom and locked the door, trembling from the adrenaline. Then she laughed quietly at her needless fears and finished her morning routine.

**NCIS**

Tony had a hard time falling asleep late Friday night, or rather, very early Saturday morning. Those moments with Ziva when all their walls were down and none of their feelings were hidden, had been the most intimate experience he could ever remember. And for a guy who's past experience equated intimacy with physical stuff, that was saying a lot.

After he'd "kissed her scars better", so to speak, Ziva had looked at him as if she could see into his soul, before she laid down and fell asleep, exhausted from the emotion. Tony hadn't been able to move, looking at their hands still joined and the shirt sleeve she'd finally pulled down, wondering what the heck he was supposed to do next.

At last he'd joined her in laying down, but his eyes never left her face, finally peaceful as she slept, and he didn't know w hen he'd drifted off himself. Now he knew nothing but deep, dreamless sleep until he felt something fall on his head. Carelessly, he moved one hand to brush it away.

Ziva was feeling playful this morning, a quality she had been sure she would never know again. Tilting the cup slightly, she drizzled a thin stream of water onto Tony's hair, smirking when he tried to brush it away as one would a fly. When she came out of the bathroom ready to face the day and found him still asleep, Ziva decided it was high time he got up.

"To-nyyy," she said softly, drawing his name out, this moment reminiscent of their undercover assignment that seemed like a hundred years ago. He still wasn't awake so Ziva frowned and dripped more water, this time on his neck.

With a start, Tony's eyes snapped open. "Huh? What? Yeah Boss, I..." he squinted at her. "Ziva? What are you doing?"

She raised one eyebrow at him, assuming the answer was obvious. "Waking you up," Ziva said matter-of-factly.

Tony rubbed his neck and found it wet. Sniffing the liquid cautiously, he decided it was safe. Spying the glass in Ziva's hand, he glared. "Playing dirty?"

"This water is quite clean actually." Then she shrugged. "It is time to get up."

"I'm up," he groused, pulling himself into a sitting position and dangling his legs over the side of the bed. "Ohh," Tony groaned, "what time is it?"

Ziva's eyes flitted to the clock. "1030."

His eyebrows jumped up. "Whoa. How late did you sleep?"

She looked sheepish. "09."

"Sleeping in Ziva?" Tony asked with a wicked grin.

"Not as much as you," she returned promptly, then started to pull the covers back up on the bed.

Tony shook his head. "Don't worry about it Zi, today is laundry day."

She eyed the overflowing clothes hamper beside his dresser. "I think it is past laundry day Tony."

"Haha, yeah," he laughed. "Well, last weekend we were busy doing other stuff. I usually try to do laundry on Saturday or Sunday each week."

Ziva grinned at him. "I did not know you were domesticated."

"Hey, I can cook, can't I?" Tony protested.

"If it involves pasta or take out, yes," she teased.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Watch it lady, or I won't make you something special for breakfast."

Ziva appeared to be thinking seriously about that. "How special?" she asked.

Tony crossed his arms and smiled. "Waffles with whipped cream, syrup, and strawberry or blueberry sauce."

Her eyes lit up. "I will be nice."

He chuckled. "That's what I thought. Come on."

One arched eyebrow asked a clear question before she voiced it. "Are you not going to get dressed Tony?"

He shrugged. "After. If I make a mess at least these pyjamas already need to be washed."

Conceding to his logic, Ziva followed Tony out to the kitchen.

**NCIS**

After breakfast, and Ziva had to admit that Tony's waffles were definitely worth being nice for, she and Tony headed back to the bedroom to collect everything that needed to be washed. Tony was half in and half out of his laundry hamper, trying to get the socks on the bottom, when he threw an idea out to her.

"Hey Ziva," he called, "do you want to throw your things in with mine, or would your rather do a separate load?" It seemed like a simple question to him. But when she didn't answer, Tony stood up to find her standing in the doorway, arms full of bath towels, looking very uncertain. "Did you hear me Zi?"

"I heard," she said slowly, then sighed. "I know it is extra, but I would prefer to do my clothes alone." Having Tony see and even touch her bras and underwear would be too much too soon. She was embarrassed enough just thinking about it.

"No trouble," Tony assured her, seeing something in her expression he didn't understand. Apparently it was a big deal after all.

They stripped the bed together - mattress cover, sheets, blanket, and pillowcases - then dumped all the dirty laundry in the center of the bed and sorted it into piles. Light, dark, and coloured. Tony set aside the things that needed to be dry cleaned and then he and Ziva each took an armload of the dark clothes down the hall to put in the washer.

With laundry started, Tony looked pleadingly at the TV and Ziva gave in a with a roll of her eyes. "Fine Tony. What do you want to watch?"

He grinned. "Today being a Saturday, I think some Mysterious Ways is in order."

Ziva's brow wrinkled. "What is 'Mysterious Ways'?"

"It's this great TV show from the early 2000s. This professor, his braniac best friend, and their psychiatrist pal work together to investigate 'miraculous phenomenon'." She was about the ask another question when Tony shook his head. "I can't explain it any more Ziva, you're just going to have to watch it for yourself and see."

Plopping down on the couch, Ziva crossed her arms and stretched her legs out to rest on the coffee table. "I am ready."

"Awesome." He plucked a DVD off the shelf and put it in the player, joining Ziva on the couch and sitting just a fraction closer than he had been last night.

**NCIS**

A couple hours later Tony's laundry was done, with only minor interruptions to their TV watching. Ziva had her second load in the washer, the first in the dryer. A clothes basket sat on the couch between them and neat piles of laundry were collecting on the end tables, floor, and coffee table.

Ziva stuck to folding safe things like t-shirts, socks, and undershirts, leaving any personal clothing to Tony and pretending like she didn't see them at all. On the other side of the couch, Tony was trying to keep a silly grin off his face as he watched Ziva's fingers nimbly match and roll all his socks, and carefully fold each t-shirt into a neat square. He was sure he'd feel the heat from her fingers still on his clothes every time he got dressed from now on.

Finally all that was left was the towels and bedding. It took the two of them only a few minutes to fold everything neatly and then Tony carried everything down the hall to put in his linen closet, pulling out a fresh sheet set and blanket while he was there. Ziva carefully transferred each pile of clothes into the basket and propped it on her hip as she walked back to the bedroom.

Once there, she left the basket by Tony's dresser and joined him at the bed. Tony looked over at her and grinned. "Guess we better make this so we have somewhere to sleep tonight."

Ziva nodded in agreement, though she thought maybe Tony was enjoying using the word "we" just a little too much. She selected the mattress cover first and their task was completed quietly, with minimal talking other than things like, "Can I have a little more sheet over here Ziva?" and "Tony, pull your corner down more."

At last they stood beside the made bed, shaking pillows into cases and smoothing out wrinkles. It was surprising how normal, how domestic their day had been. And it gave Tony another reason to hope.

**NCIS**

Supper was simple, just chicken and vegetables and rice with some leftover salad. Tonight's movie was Independence Day, and Ziva decided Tony must be on an alien kick right now. Partway through the movie, Tony pressed pause and turned to Ziva, eyeing her loose hair.

"Hey Zi, can I braid your hair again?"

Ziva looked at him sharply, suspicion in her expression. "Why Tony?"

He shrugged, not having expected it to be a big deal. "Well, I just learned," Tony reasoned, "and I'd hate to lose my new skill."

Ziva appeared to be thinking very hard about his request and Tony frowned, wondering what he'd done now that made her feel like she couldn't trust him to touch her. At last she sighed and shifted so her back faced him. "Alright."

Tony turned the movie back on and she held very still while he gently combed his fingers through her hair to make sure there were no tangles. Nothing could be more relaxing for Ziva, except that Tony's touching her like that put all of her nerves on high alert, and she had a hard time pretending like it wasn't a big deal.

Next Tony carefully split her hair into three sections like she'd shown him, but that was as far as he got. His fingers suddenly didn't remember what went where. "Uh Zi?" he asked. "Can you show me one more time?"

His words seemed to snap her out of wherever her head was and Ziva took the long, dark hair between her fingers, weaving it this way and that quickly. Then she shook it out and showed him again, slowly.

Tony grinned even though she couldn't see. "Oh, right." This time he confidently separated her hair and began practicing. Ziva closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers in her hair, enjoying a normal moment that could have been more if it was not them in it. Tony did three braids before he was happy with how it looked, and then completed the process twice more until Ziva declared that he passed.

Combing it loose again, she leaned back against the couch and smiled. "You are doing very well for a man with no sisters."

"Thanks, I think," he replied, edging closer and getting into a comfortable position.

Ziva focused back on the movie and within half an hour her body relaxed, her breathing indicating that she was asleep. It wasn't late yet, but a couple extra hours of sleep that morning didn't make up for two weeks of broken sleep, not yet. Tony made it through the final fight sequence, right to the reunion scene and fireworks before he too succumbed to the pull of sleep on his eyelids.

**NCIS**

Tony woke up an hour later, slouched on the couch, the almost familiar weight of Ziva against his arm. Her wavy hair lay splayed across his chest, her head nearly touching his shoulder. Smiling into the dark room, Tony just sat there and enjoyed the moment for a long time. But before he fell asleep again, Tony nudged Ziva's arm.

"Ziva, hey," he said quietly. "It's time for bed Ninja."

Her eyes squeezed shut a little tighter, her expression protesting his intrusion on her sleep.

Tony tried again, with a little more edge this time. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, my couch is not the best place to sleep. Let's go."

This time Ziva opened her eyes, frowning at him until she noticed how close they were. As if embarrassed, she scooted away from him and stood up. "Of course," she mumbled.

They skipped through their getting ready for bed routine and it felt nice to slip beneath clean sheets and a new blanket. Tony watched his partner's back and it was a long time before she relaxed enough to go back to sleep. He'd only just drifted off himself when he felt Ziva's body jerk.

Tony's eyes flew open and he recognized the restlessness of Level 1, the precursor to her nightmares. Not really laying that far away, he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. Ziva immediately rolled over and Tony prepared himself to be hit, knowing her reflexes were alert before her eyes opened.

But instead she did the last thing he'd expected. She curled her body into his, her head finding a home over his heart, her left hand laying flat on his chest. Stunned, Tony didn't move, heck, he barely breathed. The only explanation he had was that she was sleeping and something about being close to him made her feel safe. Because he knew for darn certain that she would never do this when she was awake.

After a long time Tony relaxed back onto the pillow, counting minutes and waiting for her to move or to need him to wake her up. She did neither. It seemed like hours later when Tony finally got up the nerve to put one arm around her back, his other hand came to rest on her shoulder. He let out a deep breath when nothing happened. If anything, Ziva seemed to get closer, as though trying to meld right into his body.

Tony loved how well she fit against him. He knew now that it was because they belonged together, but it might be months before he could tell her that, or start warming her up to the idea at least. So Tony decided just to enjoy this while he could, holding her like this, and dreaming of the future he hoped for with Ziva. After all, in less than two days she'd be gone, and when that happened everything might change, Unless he could convince her to stay.


	13. Chapter 13

Sunday morning found Tony dressed and ready to join Ziva on her run. She looked at him curiously but said nothing. She'd barely spoken to him since they woke up all tangled together, Tony holding her in an embrace and Ziva nearly plastered against him.

At first she wanted to accuse him of taking liberties while she was asleep, but the look on his face was far more complicated than that, and no guilt stained his features. So instead Ziva left the bed without a word. When she came out of the bathroom changed into workout clothes, Tony was waiting by the door in his running shoes. She smiled, and that was all. It would have to do until they could talk.

Setting a moderate pace for Tony's sake even though she'd been pushing herself to go faster and further lately, Ziva settled into a comfortable rhythm, her long legs matching his stride for stride. Cooling down took Tony two blocks to Ziva's one, but she kept him company, walking beside him without comment or ridicule.

As a thanks for tolerating his presence on what was again becoming her thing, Tony led her to a casual café and they took a seat on the patio where their slightly disheveled appearances and potential pungent odour wouldn't disturb the other customers.

Their waitress's name was Maria, an attractive girl in her mid-twenties, Ziva guessed. She tried flirting with Tony until she caught the way he was looking at Ziva, something the dark-haired woman didn't notice as she watched two children feeding pigeons at a park across the street. So Maria simply smiled and took their order.

After several minutes of relaxing and enjoying the sunshine and still nice temperature for the end of September, their waitress arrived with a tray of food. Tony had settled on an everything omelette, while Ziva chose a simple turkey bacon and grilled cheese sandwich. The couple ate slowly, comfortable with each other and seeing no need to fill the silence with words that only got in the way.

It wasn't until they were on their way home that Tony broached the subject he'd been thinking about last night. "Hey Zi," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to decide how to word his offer, "look, I know your two week stink at my place is up tomorrow, but you can stay as long as you want, really. I-" Tony hesitated, then decided to admit it. "I like having you here."

Ziva slowed her steps and turned to face him. "And I have enjoyed staying with you Tony. I am glad for the opportunity to be friends again."

_Friends._ The word felt like a wound to Tony. _Is that all she thinks of us as? Is that really all she wants?_ Or was that just the extent of what she could handle and accept right now? Couldn't she see that he'd gladly be so much more if only she'd let him? His attention was drawn back to Ziva when she put her hand on his arm, still one of the first times she'd willingly initiated contact with him, not counting when she was sleeping.

"Thank you Tony, it is sweet of you to offer. Ducky, McGee and Gibbs have also volunteered their couches. But it is time for me to have my own space again. I will stay at the Navy Lodge while I look for an apartment."

"Don't feel like you have to rush anything Zi, it's okay if you want to stay, if you don't want to be by yourself yet." He was practically begging but Ziva held to her decision. She was already too attached to him, staying would only make it worse and she couldn't afford to be weak anymore.

She shook her head slightly. "I need to learn how to just be me again," Ziva's words were soft, but her resolve was firm.

It all sounded so final and Tony had to fight the sadness that made him feel like they were breaking up, when nothing had even started yet. So he threw on a smile to cover his emotions and took her hand in his, relieved to be allowed that touch, if nothing else. He couldn't convince her to stay, but he could make sure they enjoyed their last day together as much as possible. Even if it broke his heart to know this was the last time things would be like this between them.

"Well then, since it's your last day here, we better do something special."

Ziva nodded, listening and open to whatever he had in mind. She heard the tightness in his voice, watched as he turned his eyes away as if to hide them from her. She felt badly that she had to say no, but Ziva knew it was time. She could no longer have a babysitter around at all times to make sure she didn't fall apart. She had to learn to be alone again, to take care of herself. But as Ziva walked with Tony back to his apartment, she knew she was going to miss this. She had never felt more cared for than when she was with Tony.

**NCIS**

Something special turned out to be whatever she wanted. For the rest of the day Ziva became the princess and Tony her faithful servant. After they were showered and dressed comfortably, Ziva expressed a desire to go to the shooting range. She had barely handled a weapon since she returned from Somalia, but everything that had been in her desk at NCIS and salvaged from her burnt out apartment was returned to her as soon as Gibbs was confident that she could be trusted with them again. He'd given them back on Thursday.

So Tony took her. The sun felt warm on their shoulders as they stood at adjoining stations, took their stances, and aimed their weapons. Nine rounds were fired off in under thirty seconds. The buzzer went off, the partners relaxed and waited to be called on to retrieve their targets.

For someone who hadn't shot in months, much less held a weapon, Tony was both surprised and not surprised at the tight grouping in the center of Ziva's human shaped target. His own was good, but even in the midst of recovery, she still managed to show him up. Ziva however, was not as pleased with her aim, and wanted a retry.

Since it was her day, Tony humoured her, knowing it would never hurt him to get a little more practice firing his weapon. Ziva went through four more targets, emptying the same amount of full clips before she was satisfied that she could protect her team with that weapon. For a job well done, Tony suggested they go back to his apartment and get something to eat.

Eventually they made it back, but first a short walk through the park had been in order, neither had been able to resist. Sunday was the perfect day to be outdoors, gorgeous, warm and peaceful, and enough to make even the darkest heart smile. Back in Tony's kitchen, Ziva quickly put together a sandwich for Tony and filled a bowl with salad for herself. Tony held up two fingers with a smile and though Ziva gave him a shocked look, she got one for him as well and Tony ate the leftover green stuff without complaint.

The afternoon's entertainment was more of the Xena TV show, because the few episodes they'd watched last weekend intrigued Ziva and she was open to watching more, even if the fights were ridiculously fake. Instead of taking her customary place on the couch beside Tony though, Ziva opted to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, which now held the black, roll-out case housing her knives, her spare sidearm and smaller back up.

Ziva spent two hours cleaning each weapon until not a spot was left on them, and making the knife blades sparkle after she'd sharpened them on the whet stone and tested the edges on a piece of wood. Before Somalia, before this Ziva had returned to them, Tony would've watched the proceedings with no small degree of fear. And Ziva would've smirked the entire time, knowing a mere look could make her partner cringe.

But now everything was different. As he watched her slow, deliberate movements, Tony felt like he was seeing a small piece of Ziva come back. Even after months away the knives and guns were still like an extension of her arm when she held them. And watching her practice with the unloaded weapons felt right somehow.

After a pleading look from his roommate, Tony sighed and got up to dig an old, four inch thick telephone book out of his closet. He duct taped the book to the counter cut-out stored beside his washer and dryer, from the hole that was cut to fit his sink. Setting the target against the wall, Tony found a red marker and drew a miniature bull's-eye on the silver tape for Ziva to aim at.

With a genuine smile of thanks, Ziva picked up each knife individually, five altogether, and tossed them neatly across the room. The blades, varying from two to six inches in length, were buried deep into the bulk of the old phone book. Again and again Ziva threw her knives and retrieved them, not giving up until each one landed in the center of the target several times in succession.

Dinner was a collaboration - Tony cooked the steaks while Ziva whipped up mashed potatoes and warmed frozen peas in the microwave. In honour of her last night, Tony let her pick the movie. He gestured to one particular shelf. "Chick flicks, Zi, go nuts." When she frowned at him, Tony reworded the declaration. "Go ahead. I'll watch whatever you want."

Ziva took her time perusing the many movies, completely surprising him when she chose Pride and Prejudice. But regardless, he slid the disc into the player and settled down to watch it with her. The movie was well made, but Ziva hadn't expected the undertone of sadness.

Some of the fights between the male and female lead made her smile, reminding her of the arguments she and Tony used to share, once upon a time. The ending however, was sweet enough to make up for the angst in the rest of the film, though being so close to Tony as the now married couple professed their love for each other made Ziva a little uncomfortable.

By the time the movie was over, Tony and Ziva decided it was bedtime. Dishes were done quickly and left to dry, leftover food was covered or sealed in containers and placed in the fridge. They each went to separate bathrooms to change and brush their teeth before meeting back in his room.

When they got into bed, Tony cleared his throat. "Um, look Zi, don't take this the wrong way," he started, well aware that much of what he said could he heard with two different meanings, "but since this might be the last time you'll be in my bed, is it okay...do you mind if..." he frowned and finally just spit it out. "Can I just hold you while we fall asleep?"

Tony didn't realize how desperate he sounded, but he knew how badly he wanted her to say yes. He wanted Ziva to be willing to trust him now and not only in her sleep. He wanted for one more night to hold onto what they'd been building these last two weeks in case tomorrow it was all gone. Tony wanted Ziva, but dared not tell her how much.

Ziva held very still and was so quiet Tony didn't think she would answer. Finally though, she did. "Tony," she began, not sure what to do with his request. Sitting close on the couch, casual touches, even holding hands occasionally, and sharing the same room, the same bed, were all things that had taken time. But to go willingly into his arms without even a nightmare driving her to need his comfort...Ziva didn't know.

Tony held his breath while she thought, ready to beg if that's what it took. "Ziva, please?" he asked at last. Her eyes met his and for a fleeting second Tony thought she might say yes, but then she rolled over and his heart plummeted. After a moment though, he heard her voice, soft and hesitant.

"You may sleep behind me Tony." Ziva reached back and found his hand, drawing his arm loosely around her waist and he scooted closer, molding his body against her back. "But please do not try to touch me." It was enough already to have him so close, if he so much as moved his hand she might accidentally fight back, and Ziva no longer wanted to hurt her partner.

Tony understood that she meant touch of a different kind than what they were doing now, the full length of their bodies pressed lightly together. Despite the tension he could feel from Ziva, Tony was so glad to be this close to her, to feel that she trusted him to respect her even now.

He tucked his head beside Ziva's on the pillow and felt her breathing quicken, could see the pulse jump her in neck. She was wearing his clothes again tonight, her Shannon pyjamas neatly folded and in her duffel bag, ready for her new start tomorrow. Ziva's arm rested against his hand and slowly Tony stroked his thumb back and forth, feeling the raised scars that had not yet faded.

"I'm not that guy anymore Zi," he whispered, I haven't been for a long time." In his head Tony added the rest, the words he still couldn't say out loud. _I love you so much more than the pleasure I could get from your body. And I respect you far too much to try anything that you are not comfortable with._

Pressing a gentle kiss to her dark hair, Tony closed his eyes and waited, letting his breathing slow and even out. It took minutes, many long minutes, before he felt the tenseness in Ziva's body slowly drain away. Finally, she relaxed into his warmth behind her, and her breaths eventually matched his. But the best part of that whole time was when Ziva slid her hand overtop of his where it rested on her stomach and lightly squeezed his fingers. No matter what happened tomorrow, Tony knew he would never forget this night, nor take for granted her trust ever again.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This may or may not be almost too sappy, so let me know if I'm overdoing it at all. And thanks again to everyone for your patience and your faithful reviews. I appreciate the support so much! ~ Aliyah :)

It was a night with no dreams for either the man or the woman who lay close together in the king sized bed. Tony did not dream because he barely slept at all. He stayed awake as long as he could, holding onto the feel of Ziva's body resting against him, of her hand still laying on his which rested on her stomach.

He memorized the sound of her breathing, the way strands of her dark hair occasionally tickled his nose, the smell of honey and sunshine and coconuts that came from her bodywash and shampoo. Tony overlooked no detail about his partner, because in a few short hours their time together would end and he wanted a vivid memory to reach for when he went to bed alone for the first time in two weeks.

Ziva stirred in her sleep, rolling more onto her stomach, and Tony was forced to move his arm from around her waist, resting it on her back instead. Through his old OSU shirt that she wore nothing was visible, but Tony ached for the freedom to slip his hand under the material and touch her skin, to know what other marks and scars she continued to hide from him. He wanted her to know that no matter what they had done to her in Somalia, it would never change the way he saw her. In Tony's eyes Ziva would always be the same exotic beauty he'd met almost four years ago.

Finally Tony couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. As they fell shut, he sealed the moment in his mind, wishing it could last forever and hoping beyond hope that someday this would be them again. Sharing a life, an apartment, a bed, someday when Ziva was not just his friend or his partner, but his wife.

**NCIS**

For Ziva, this last night at Tony's apartment was when she finally got her wish. She slept the whole night through without dreams, without waking, without fear, without seeing anything at all in the comforting darkness behind her eyelids. In Tony's clothes, in his bed, in his arms, she was content. She felt safe and cared for and beyond the reach of any nightmare or memory that might try to find her.

Even in this position, Ziva never feared that Tony would break his promise to respect her, or be anything less than the gentleman she had come to expect, something that was very surprising after knowing him as a class clown and a womanizer jock for the last few years. But then, she had missed a lot by leaving.

Sighing, Ziva relaxed into the peaceful rest her sleep for once offered. Her fingers played lightly over Tony's knuckles and a small smile graced her lips. Then Ziva David slept and for the first time in many weeks, she did not dream.

**NCIS**

When it was finally morning, Tony and Ziva woke slowly to find themselves nearly face to face, Tony's hand resting on her wrist, and their knees touching as they both lay on their sides. Ziva smiled at Tony and checked the clock. Upon seeing the time, she started to move, but Tony's fingers tightened on her wrist.

"Don't go Zi, please don't go," he whispered, and she couldn't tell if he was talking about her run or her decision to get her own place again.

"Tony," she began, but his index finger came to rest on her lips.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He couldn't keep his feelings for her hidden any more. "Ziva, I-"

Ziva saw something in Tony's eyes, the same look that had been there her first night back after Somalia, when she slept in Gibbs' guest room and Tony woke her from the first nightmare. It was the same look she'd seen before they went grocery shopping last Saturday. She didn't know what it meant but she was afraid to find out.

Shaking her head slowly, Ziva forced the words out, and it was harder than she thought to keep him at arm's length this time. "Please Tony," she begged, "do not say something that both of us may regret later." Hurt pooled in her partner's eyes and she tried to soften the blow of her words.

"There is so much you do not know about Somalia Tony, so many things I may never be able to tell you." She closed her eyes. "Do not get too close to me Tony, you will only end up hurt." Ziva laid her palm against his cheek and looked into his green eyes. "I do not want that for you. Be my partner Tony, watch my back. Be my friend, that is all we can be. I am not the same woman who left you six months ago."

The truth of Ziva's words hit Tony like a punch to the gut. He had to look away, feeling like she had just ripped out his heart. Ziva had no idea what she was asking. Telling him to stop caring was like telling him to stop breathing and he couldn't, wouldn't do that. But her eyes said she was trying to protect both of their hearts, that she thought pushing him away was the only way to keep him safe from all the scars she now had to bear. It was just like he told her once before: she might not say much to him, but her eyes wouldn't shut up.

So Tony would be patient, he would wait, and pray that one day she would be ready to hear everything that was in his heart. Because now that he loved her there was no way Tony ever wanted to go back to just being her friend. Even if he had to play the role for months or years more, Tony could not let Ziva go again. He'd have his chance, but it wouldn't be today. But oh gosh! He'd never known that being patient would be so hard or hurt so bad.

Stifling a groan at the pain of realizing how long he would have to wait to love her, Tony reached for Ziva and wrapped his arms around her. Ziva was surprised by his action and started to pull away, but something told her that her partner needed this comfort desperately. So she swallowed and tentatively hooked her arm around his waist. Tony held her tightly, his body tense with emotion or something else, she could not tell.

Every time Tony had held her, every attempt at comfort that he had given, each night that he'd woken her from the nightmares that held her captive came back to Ziva, and she figured that the least she could do was try to return the favour. Relaxing into Tony's hug, Ziva began rubbing slow, gentle circles on his lower back. Positioning her face near his ear, she whispered soothing words in Hebrew, keeping her voice soft and calming. This was no different than when she used to comfort Tali after a bad dream, or when she had been hurt and Ziva drew on that compassion to help Tony, so she wouldn't dwell on how close they were together.

Their shared embrace lasted many minutes and Ziva felt herself getting sleepy again before Tony finally released her. And even then he did not meet her eyes but sat up away from her, a quiet, "Thank you Ziva," falling from his lips. Tony's behaviour concerned her, but Ziva also wished they could take back the morning so far. _Do not make me need you Tony_, she implored him silently, unable to allow herself to be that vulnerable with him. _Just let me go and let us be friends, please_.

Finally Tony let out a breath and looked in her direction, but not into her eyes. The room suddenly felt a little cooler, as if all the warmth and enjoyment they had shared was gone. Ziva sat up as well, rubbing her arms at the chill. When she was at last able to hold Tony's gaze, she could see that he had pulled a shutter across his eyes, hiding his heart from her. The openness of the last two weeks and their middle of the night conversations had disappeared, and Ziva now missed the very look that had scared her twenty minutes ago. She sighed and forced a smile. She could not have it both ways. She had chosen the path less likely to break her heart and now she had to follow it no matter what the consequences were.

"I think we need to start this morning over again," Tony announced with fake lightness. He brushed his fingers lightly over the back of her hand. "I want you to stay Ziva. These last two weeks with you have been," he searched for the word, "well, interesting to say the least. I've missed having my best friend around."

The title did not ring true to Ziva's ears this time, but she accepted the part Tony was willing to play because that was all she could handle right now. She opened her mouth to explain again why she had to leave, but Tony shook his head.

"You don't have to say anything Zi. I know why you need to go, but just the same I want you to know that I wish you weren't." He tipped her chin up, his eyes serious. "And I also want you to know that you can come back any time, for any reason." His thumb gently caressed her cheek. "I'll always be here if you need anything Ziva, that's a promise."

She nodded, blinking quickly. After his eloquent speech, she had no words to express what he had done for her. "Thank you Tony," was all she could manage. Ziva glanced at the clock and shrugged apologetically. "I need to go."

Tony let out a breath and nodded. "I know." Getting out of bed, he searched his closet and drawers for clean clothes and headed down the hall. "I'm going for a shower. Breakfast in half an hour."

Ziva watched him go, feeling that somehow he had taken a part of her with him. In slow, measured movements, she stood up, pulled the covers flat on the bed and took her bag into the bathroom. There was no looking back, no wishful thinking, no wondering what if. It was time to start again, and like every other time, she had to do it on her own.

**NCIS**

Tony watched sadly, quietly as Ziva pulled the zipper shut on her duffel bag. This was it, she was really going. She slipped into her spring coat, donned her backpack, and offered him a smile. Tony held the door for her and gestured to her bag. "Can I take that for you?"

She shook her head gently. "I can carry my things Tony."

He knew that, but he was desperate for things between them to not just end once they walked out his door.

Their ride to work was silent but not overly uncomfortable. It was just filled with all the things they both knew they could not say to each other. This morning's too honest talk had taken more out of them than anything else and Tony's heart ached because of it. Ziva simply observed the city out his car window, glancing his direction every now and then but never saying a word.

Today was Monday, Ziva's first session with the psychiatrist, so once they got off the elevator together and she left her things behind her desk, Tony didn't see her for two hours. The day was slow, and though he wished for a case to consume his attention, he was glad he wasn't too far away. Tony wasn't sure what the shrink would talk to her about, but he knew that she might need a hand to hold when it was over.

**NCIS**

Dr. Devon Andrews, the nameplate on the cold steel door said. Ziva stood before the portal that would take her inside a stark room, where a professional snoop would have a say in deciding whether or not she could continue to be on Gibbs' team at NCIS. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then let her emotionless Mossad mask fall into place. She would be strong, she would be brave, and she would say whatever she had to say, as long as they would let her stay.

Putting her hand on doorknob, Ziva turned and pushed, then entered the room and nodded at the woman sitting in a comfortable white chair. The psychiatrist smiled brightly and welcomed her inside.

"Ziva, hello." She reached out one hand. "I'm Dr. Andrews but please, call me Devon, it's much less formal. Have a seat." The doctor gestured to the loveseat across from her chair and Ziva gingerly lowered herself onto the second cushion. Devon studied her quietly for a moment before making an observation. "I've read your file Ms. David, and I'm well aware of the trauma you went through at the terror camp." She noticed how her patient stiffened at the mention of where she'd been held captive, so Devon smiled encouragingly. "But this is our first meeting so I want to keep things a little bit lighter. Tell me about your team, if you will."

The Israeli woman frowned. "I am not permitted to talk about the members of Mossad."

Devon's eyes widened. "Oh no, I didn't mean that. I was referring to your team here at NCIS. It seems as if you are willing to fight to stay with them. I'd like to know why. What makes them so special?"

Ziva regarded the woman seriously. This was not what she had expected. And because of it, she might actually tell this Dr. Andrews the truth. There was something in Devon's eyes that invited Ziva to trust her. But Ziva had been burned so many times by others she should've been able to trust. Now the question was, could she allow herself to trust again? Not just the psychiatrist, but everyone else who belonged in her life? It was that thought which stayed at the front of Ziva's mind for the duration of her session.

**NCIS**

Tony checked his watch for the twentieth time. _It's been almost two hours, where is she?_ he demanded of the silence. He knew that Ziva would have to leave as soon as her session with the shrink was over. She was not officially part of the team yet and while she was going through her mandatory psyche evaluation and the battery of tests that went with it, she wasn't allowed to do any work with them either.

Finally he spotted her near the stairs, and without a word he hurried to join her, wanting to speak to her without the others hearing. She looked up when his footsteps approached her and right away Tony could see in her posture how drained she was, like all of the energy had been sucked out of her body.

"Hey," he said quietly, "how did it go?"

Ziva tugged on a lock of hair and shrugged emotionlessly. "It could have been worse." She was telling him something but not really telling him anything at all. Tony wanted details, but she'd probably already been talked out by the shrink.

"Can I get you some tea?" he asked, wanting to help in some way.

The smile she gave him was tired. "No thank you Tony. I will go to the Navy Lodge now. My next session is not until tomorrow."

Tony bit his lip. "I could come with you."

She gave him a knowing look. "Gibbs will not let you."

He sighed. "No, but I would if I could."

"Thank you Tony," Ziva said quietly, moving past him and going to her desk. He sat down again, wishing he didn't feel so helpless.

As she grabbed her meager belongings, Gibbs spoke without looking up from the paper he was signing. "Shuttle from the Navy Lodge will meet you downstairs. You need something, you call."

Ziva's eyebrows rose but she should not have been surprised. Gibbs was always taking care of them in small ways. She sent a smile towards their boss, locked eyes with Tony briefly, and headed for the elevator. Tony stared after her, feeling bereft of everything that mattered. Gibbs saw the expression on his senior field agent's face, as he saw all things that affected his team.

"She needs to stand on her own feet DiNozzo," he said gruffly. "If she needs you, she'll call."

Tony sighed, eyes still fixed on the place he last saw her. "It's Ziva Boss, she never needs anything."

Gibbs strode past Tony's desk on his way out for coffee. "Maybe she does now Tony."

The words' deeper meaning was lost on Tony, but the encouragement from his boss gave him a glimmer of hope._ If she will just let me help_, he thought, _I would do anything_.


	15. Chapter 15

When Ziva arrived at the Navy Lodge, she was assigned a room and took the stairs instead of the elevator. The key the man at the front desk had handed her let her in, and she immediately dropped her things, put several dollars in her pocket, strapped on her back-up ankle gun and added the knife to her waist where it was hidden from sight under her jacket. Then she turned around and left the building the way she'd come.

At the end of the street she stopped at a newsstand and bought a weekly paper, entered a nearby convenience store, and used the pen at the lottery counter to circle all the nearby apartment listings. After exchanging a couple of her dollars for quarters, Ziva went around the corner, found an unoccupied telephone booth, and began to make inquiries.

Less than twenty minutes later she was out of quarters but had secured three appointments to look at vacant or soon to be available apartments, all of which were in walking distance. Her afternoon passed quickly, quietly, and uneventfully. But it had been a long time since she was alone and Ziva couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

**NCIS**

Tony felt like Monday lasted forever. With Ziva disappearing from the building before lunch and no case coming in to warp their activity level into high speed, he was left with counting minutes for the remaining seven hours of the day. Gibbs looked at him occasionally but for the most part left him alone.

Tim offered to buy lunch but when Tony responded that he was not hungry, his friend suddenly went from curious to concerned. Even a visit from Abby up to the bullpen didn't do more than coax a small smile from the usually talkative senior field agent. Abby and McGee exchanged long looks before she went back downstairs, but until Tony talked to one of them, there really wasn't anything anyone could do.

Still, it was too quiet in the bullpen, and even Gibbs, who took to silence like a fish to water, found it a bit unnerving after seven years of dealing with Tony's incessant chatter. What everyone knew for certain was that his unusual mood had something to do with their currently absent, former Mossad Liaison officer. And Tony wasn't the only one that missed her.

Finally Gibbs called it a day and the predictable pattern followed for each team member. Just as he had for the last three weeks, Tim immediately disappeared down to the lab to wait until Abby was ready to go. They would leave the building together, go out for dinner or grab take-out, and head back to her place to spend a quiet evening alone in the comfort of each other's arms.

Gibbs grabbed his coat, shut off his computers and desk lamp, and stared at Tony for a long moment before leaving via the elevator. He would go home, order Chinese, possibly have Fornell join him for a drink, and go work on his boat until he either fell asleep in the basement or made his way back upstairs to his bed. The routine never changed, hadn't since his family died, or at least, it had changed very little.

And Tony, well, normally Tony would follow Ziva to the elevator, they'd go home in his car, fix dinner, and watch a movie until it was time for bed. Tonight Tony wasn't sure he could do any of those things, because everything would remind him of what he and Ziva had been doing together for the last two weeks. And remind him that everything had changed.

So instead he took himself to a bar and spent an hour nursing a single drink. But Tony wasn't up to getting drunk tonight, he wanted to be sober so he could think, or be available in case Ziva needed him. He was hoping, really hoping that she would need him. But knowing Ziva like he did, he didn't think her pride would let her need him anymore.

Tony went home to a dark, empty apartment, kicked off his shoes and changed into sweats. He threw on a James Bond movie, and then another, paying little attention to either and always keeping the phone close. Just in case Ziva changed her mind and decided to call. It never occurred to him to eat anything and he really wasn't hungry anyways.

When he didn't want to be awake any longer, he brushed his teeth, undressed, and soon found himself standing in the middle of his room, unsure what to do. His eyes found the pallet still against the wall because he hadn't put the blankets away yet. Then his gaze drifted to the bed, where for the past few nights he'd slept within arm's reach of Ziva, and sometimes, with her in his arms.

After waging a silent war with himself, Tony slid under the covers. Immediately he know that it might be days or weeks before he would be able to wash the bedding. The right side still smelled of Ziva's hair and skin, where her shampoo and bodywash had rubbed off on the pillow and sheets, and even though the left was his usual side when he wasn't sprawled over the entire bed, this night he moved to where his partner had slept and took a deep breath, wanting to hold onto her unique scent.

But he couldn't relax, he couldn't close his eyes, and he wasn't sure sleep would ever come. All he could think about was Ziva, about how she was alone. This time there would be no one to save her from the dreams and already he could hear her desperate screams echoing in his head. It was going to be a long, long night.

**NCIS**

After her last apartment viewing, she had seen nothing she liked and nothing that was in the area where she wanted to live, Ziva returned to the Navy Lodge and unlocked the door to her small, one room living area. There was a bed and nightstand in one corner, a chair and footstool in the other. The bathroom was on the same wall as the door and a small counter held a kettle and a box of flavoured teas.

This would be her temporary home until she could find a place of her own. But she would have to go further than she could walk, so maybe tomorrow she would rent a car. And maybe after she had an apartment, and had returned to her place on the team, McGee could help her find a nice used car to drive. It would be nice to have her independence back. But it was a lot of what ifs, and a lot of maybes, and none of them were helping her tonight.

It seemed like ages that she stood in the center of the room and stared around aimlessly. It was very quiet, being there all by herself. Against her will Ziva realized she missed Tony's voice, missed the constant movies or TV shows playing in the background. She missed another person sharing her space.

Finally she shook herself and retrieved her Les Mis book from the backpack pocket she'd tucked it into last night. Curling up in the chair in the corner, she let herself get lost in the pages. And it worked, for an hour, then two. But as the night grew darker, Ziva realized she would have to sleep eventually, and for the first time in a month she would be sleeping alone. There would be no one to wake her tonight, should the dreams come.

Slowly, she began her simple routine of getting ready for bed. She brushed her teeth in the tiny bathroom, and missed how Tony would stand beside her and make goofy faces as the foam ran down his chin. She ran a brush through her thick hair, thinking of the nights when Tony had practiced braiding it. She changed into her Shannon pyjamas from Gibbs, and missed the baggy comfort of Tony's old sweatpants and OSU shirt. She crawled into bed, and missed his body being a foot away, how he was always there, and had always been there, every time she rolled over for the past two weeks.

After laying in bed for a few minutes, Ziva got up and knelt beside her backpack, pulling out her sidearm, and grabbing the knife sheath off of the counter. She tucked the knife under the mattress and slid the gun under her pillow. Then she double checked that the doors were locked, glad that the room was small and every corner was visible. She turned on the bedside lamp and finally, shut off the main light. But shadows gathered just beyond the light's reach, and Ziva wondered how long it would be before they found her again.

**NCIS**

Tony's nightmares always started the same. Saleem ushering Ziva into the room, her hands bound in front of her, clad in a dirty men's shirt that is too large for her small frame. He recognized her own clothes underneath and wondered how long she'd been wearing the same things. She stumbled as she walked and Saleem pushed her roughly into the wooden chair, his words echoing in Tony's head.

"_One of you will tell me the identities and locations of all the operatives in the area. And the other one, will die."_

Tony watched as Saleem ripped the hood off Ziva's head. He'd been confused about who this other person could be and how they would have that information. Then he heard her sharp intake of breath when her eyes met his, and felt his heart squeeze at the emptiness in her expression. It was like there was nothing left of the Ziva he suddenly knew in that moment that he loved. Though in truth, Tony knew he'd loved Ziva when he couldn't function after the news of her "death", when nothing was the same any more, without her.

He remembered saying the first thing that came to mind and it was the very opposite of what he wished now that he'd said. _"Huh. How was your summer?" _Not, "We thought you were dead," or even a sarcastic, "Wow? You're alive? Didn't see that coming," nor the heartfelt, "I'm so glad to see you." But he asked about probably the last thing she wanted to think about. Their conversation began to play again and Tony felt the rough wooden chair beneath him as he stared into the face of the partner he thought he'd lost forever.

_Her first words were slow and lifeless. "Out of everyone in the world who could have found me, it had to be you?"_

_Ziva's stringy brown hair was getting in her eyes, sweat glistened off her dirt smudged face, and she refused to look at him until the last word. He thought she'd never looked better. "You're welcome." Tony licked his lips. "So, are you glad to see me?"_

_She shook her head as she spoke. "You should not have come."_

_Tony looked at her like the words didn't quite make sense. "Alright then. Good catching up. I'll be going now." He tried to stand up but fell back down, resorting to sarcasm, his weapon of choice. "Oh yeah, I forgot," he chuckled dryly. "Taken prisoner."_

_Ziva's drawn eyebrows did not understand how he could joke about this. She stared at him as she spoke to the man laying on the floor behind her chair. How she even knew he was there was beyond Tony. But Ziva had always known things. "Are you alright, McGee?"_

_McGee sighed in relief. "I'm just glad you're alive."_

_Her words were halting, almost disbelieving. "You...thought I was...dead?"_

_Tony nodded, pressing his lips together. "Oh...oh yeah."_

_Ziva frowned. "Then why are you here?"_

_He tried to play it off. "McGee...McGee didn't think you were dead."_

"_Tony," she said his name with a force that reminded him of before. "Why are you here?"_

_Tony fought the truth serum racing through his veins, but finally had to give in and admit how he felt. "Couldn't live without you, I guess," he shrugged, trying to make light of how serious he was._

"_So you will die with me." Ziva said it like a statement, not a question. He didn't have an answer and she looked away. "You should have left me alone."_

_Tony shifted and tried to resist the urge to speak. "Okay...tried...couldn't. Listen, you should know I've taken some kind of truth serum, so if there's any questions that you don't want to know the answer to..." He trailed off and Ziva spoke again. He'd always wondered if there were any questions she'd wanted to ask, and what would've happened if he told the truth after all these years._

"_I did not ask anyone to put themselves in harms way for me. I do not deserve it." She wasn't looking at him anymore._

_Back to sarcasm because he couldn't take the dull resignation in her tone, Tony made a face. "So what are you doing out here? Some kind of monastic experience? Doing penance?"_

_Ziva barely nodded. "It is justified."_

_His words were just as serious. "Get over yourself." This defeat was not something he was used to from her. But they'd had three months to break her spirit. Tony wondered if they'd finally succeeded._

_She smiled sadly. "I have." Then her expression turned serious. "Now, you tell Saleem everything he wants to hear and you try to save yourselves. I am ready to die." Again her gaze dropped._

_Knowing her as well as he did, Tony read between the lines and heard her silent plea.__** I want to die. Please just let me die**__. But he couldn't, any more than he could stop his heart from beating or his lungs from taking in oxygen. He couldn't let her give up, not yet._

_McGee spoke up from behind her. "That's not how it works."_

"_How what works?" Ziva was getting exasperated with them, it was in her tone, and it gave Tony a reason to hope. If she still had even an ounce of fight left in her, they just might make it out alive._

"_The plan," Tony smiled._

_Her look was incredulous. "You...have an escape plan?" He winked and she tried to spell out the reality of the situation to him, no doubt thinking he was delusional from lack of water or whatever they'd already done to him. "Tony, they have thirty men, heavily armed. They have anti-tank, anti-aircraft weapons. What do you have?"_

_In his mind, Tony was playing back a scene with Darth Vader from one of the Star Wars movies - __**"Your lack of faith is disturbing"**__. But on the other hand, he could understand her skepticism. She didn't know what they'd gone through to find her. "Well," he tried to smile and shrugged, "that's where things get a little sticky."_

"_Wait," Ziva stared at him as he finished explaining. "You got captured on purpose?"_

"_Yeah," he confirmed._

"_These men are killers Tony." As more hair fell away from her face, Tony could see evidence that she'd been abused and wished it wasn't so obvious._

"_I know. That's why we have to stay alive long enough to not get dead."_

"_That would involve being rescued," Ziva pointed out. Tony saw something in her eyes, emotion for the first time since the bag came off, and he could hear it in her voice as she struggled to understand - hope._

"_Yes it would," Tony almost smiled._

"_How long will it take?" The eagerness in her voice was hard to miss._

"_I don't know." He gave her a quizzical look. "How long do you think I've been talking?"_

"_What is the plan?" Her hissed words fell to a whisper._

"_Oh." Tony looked over her shoulder to check for spies. "Well, we fail to contact Dubai, word gets to a carrier group in the Med and they scramble F22 Raptors that burn sand into glass. And how long that's going to take," he shook his head. "I don't know. Hours, or days, maybe."_

_On hearing his cocky words, Tony watched as Ziva's hope was dashed and the blank shutter fell across her eyes again, blocking out any real emotion. But not before one tear escaped. He was sure she hoped nobody saw. Except Tony's eyes hadn't left her face since Saleem brought her in. He noticed and it broke his heart. He could only hope Gibbs' plan worked, because unlike when he started this mission, Tony no longer wanted to die._

"_Ziva," he asked in a low voice, "can you fight?"_

_Despair washed over him in a wave when she didn't respond, mostly because there wasn't time. Sitting practically knee to knee with her, Tony could see all the details he wished he didn't know. The dead look in her eyes - she'd been forced to become nothing to survive this place. The mark over the bridge of her nose from a healed break - Tony wondered how many times it had happened. _

_Dark circles under Ziva's eyes spoke of little sleep and much pain endured. A red mark on one of her cheeks suggested that she'd been beaten, or at least hit not long ago. Deep cracks on her lips begged for moisture that would never come. Tony wanted to say something, he wanted to know everything she'd been through so he could try to make it better. But before he could say a word, the door was flung open and Saleem strode in, a knife in one hand._

_He grabbed a handful of Ziva's hair and pulled her head back. She winced before he touched her, a gasp escaping as he bared her throat and held the sharp blade to her skin. Tony had to bite back the words he wanted to scream to get Saleem to leave her alone. Instead he had to listen as Ziva tried to negotiate for their lives._

"_If they do not check in, their people will come for them."_

_Tony told her to be quiet but she ignored him, offering her death in place of theirs. She had a strange calm about her and Tony wondered how many times she had stared death in the face only to have it be a threat and not a reality. Or how many times she'd wished for it, but they'd only teased her with the promise of relief from her suffering._

"_Kill me," she said, her words rushed. "You will need the Americans for leverage."_

_Then he said the phrase his partner had been waiting for and McGee kicked into action. The commotion lasted seconds before a gun was cocked in Tim's direction and Tony yelled that he had something else to share, distracting Saleem as he talked to save all their lives._

_Ziva's eyes locked on him, her expression praying this wasn't one more bluff. They were all out of time. As Tony rambled about his part in their mission, McGee remained motionless, frozen because the gun was still aimed at his head. Ziva was barely breathing as she listened and watched. _

_Her eyes glanced to the side, eying the weapon Saleem held and Tony wondered if she was thinking about trying to take him down, one last moment of revenge. But he didn't have time to meet her eyes and convince her to hold still and wait. When he gave Saleem thirty seconds to live, her brow furrowed, not able to believe him. So many people had let her down, his betrayal was one of the worst, and even though he'd fought to come for her, it wasn't enough to make up for the trust that had been broken._

_The question in her eyes was answered as the glass shattered and a bullet knocked Saleem to the floor. There was terror in her eyes as she instinctively leaned away from the noise, and she was breathing hard, disbelief covering her face as she stared at the hole in the window and down at Saleem, his life's blood collecting in a pool around his head, vacant eyes still staring in surprise._

_As quickly as he could, Tim fumbled with the knife and cut their bonds. The two of them dragged Ziva to her feet and out of the room. Tony kept hold of her hand and they each wrapped an arm around her back. Her other hand hung lifeless around McGee's neck, as if she hadn't even the strength to hold on. Her bare feet moved slowly on the stone floor and she looked down, perhaps willing them to move faster. They rounded the corner and saw their rescuer. Relief, and the beginnings of something resembling a smile, showed on Ziva's face as Gibbs said the only three words that mattered now._

"_Let's go home."_

Tony woke with a start, breathing hard and reaching for Ziva out of reflex, as if she'd had the bad dream and not him. But the other side of the bed was empty and he fell back against the pillow. If this was what he was seeing, what was going on in Ziva's head as she slept alone tonight? The reality of what he knew her nightmares looked like made Tony shiver and he could only pray that her sleep would be peaceful.

**NCIS**

The dreams were back. For awhile Ziva actually thought she'd be okay. But four hours into her night, at two am, she woke herself from one of her old nightmares, eyes darting wildly around the room, looking for the source of the screams. It wasn't until she swallowed and her throat was sore that Ziva realized she'd been the one screaming.

Trembling all over, Ziva sat up in bed, pressing her back into the corner. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, not wanting to close her eyes or she would see it again. Back in the cell, back with Saleem and four other men. Bound in a spread eagle position, tied to stakes they'd pounded into the dirt floor.

Nearly naked, she'd lain there awaiting the blows that were sure to come. But when the whip hissed through the air and the first lash marked itself on her back, the shock of the pain almost made her cry out. From then on it was a game to them, to see if they could get her to scream.

She did not remember the number of times the whip had come down on her back the day, only that by the time they untied her and a boot connected with her side, making Ziva want to vomit at the pain in her ribs and back, she had been so weak she could barely even move to curl in on herself while the pain radiated through her.

Without any care, the cuts became infected a few days later. But they didn't care. And the healing wounds were split open again that same week. Her back had been raw for longer than she cared to remember, every movement coming at a price, just as every breath had after a beating that broke four of her ribs.

Biting back a whimper, Ziva reached for her gun, the cold steel a comfort in her hand. It wasn't so much the pain that scared her, but the feeling of being weak and vulnerable and alone, completely at their mercy, though they had none. She could not fight, she could not defend herself, and she could not keep them from hurting her. Somalia was her hell and she did not like to remember it.

Ziva's cell phone lay on the bedside table and with shaking fingers she reached for it, but then drew back. Tony had been her shield for two weeks. He had learned when to wake her, what helped, and what made it worse. But she could not run to him any more. She had to do this on her own. Even if she was terrified to go back to sleep, knowing the dreams would only return again and this time it might be a memory she could not bear to see repeated, she could not ask for him to help or save her, not anymore.

Slowly she lay down on the bed again, resting her head on the pillow. But Ziva never closed her eyes for more than a few seconds, or a minute at the most and she never let go of her grip on the gun. When daylight began to show dimly under the curtain on the window, she got up, dressed, and headed for the gym. It was time to chase the demons away.


	16. Chapter 16

When Tony got off the elevator Tuesday morning, he was surprised to find Ziva already at her desk, working. Not that it was unusual for her to beat him to the office, Tony was normally the last one to show up, but today he was very early. It had been a long night after he woke up from that nightmare about Somaila. Tony hadn't slept much after that.

He approached the bullpen slowly, taking in everything he could about his partner before she saw him. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and looked heavy, like it was damp. So odds were she'd done her run in the gym this morning and showered here. Which meant she didn't feel safe outside again, just like when she first started running again. Ziva's body was tense, almost rigid, and her head kept moving back and forth as if she couldn't concentrate and was constantly watching for something.

Not wanting to startle her, but surprised that she hadn't heard the ding of the elevator, Tony bit his lip and thought about his options. They were few. Coming up behind her would result in immediate pain, being loud would make her jump and she'd probably reach for her gun, and attempting to touch her might mean the loss of his hand if she was wound tightly enough. So that left one thing.

Tony crept a little closer to the partition that separated her desk space from the hallway. "Hey Ziva," he said quietly.

Regardless of the non-threatening tone of his voice and the fact that she could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, Ziva's head still whipped around to find his position, fear and something else he couldn't read flaring in her eyes before she gave him a penetrating look.

"It's 0630 Tony, why are you here?"

Now that he was right beside her desk, Tony could see the little details that gave him a much clearer picture of why she was so much on edge. Dark circles rimmed her chocolate eyes, which were dull and lifeless today, something he hadn't seen in weeks. It was the Somalia look, the captive look, the look of fear and giving up. He hated it.

Without thinking Tony reached out to brush his thumb down her cheek. Ziva reacted, but he could tell that she toned it down for him. Instead of slapping his hand away or putting him on the floor, she merely took a step back, the rolling chair behind her bumping into an open desk drawer with a bang loud enough it made her recoil.

Drawing his brows together, Tony stared into her eyes. "Geez Zi, what happened?" It was like their two weeks together had never taken place, like all the progress they'd made with getting her used to touch again, to being comfortable with people in general and him in particular, was suddenly gone. Dread coiled in Tony's stomach. Was this how things were going to be between them now? No closeness, no memory of shared nights and facing her demons together, no comfort, no nothing?

Ziva avoided his eyes. "Nothing happened Tony," she said flatly. "It is just an off day."

That was like saying a hurricane was just a big wind. No, he couldn't let her get away with hiding and pretending, not after the side of her he'd seen while they were roommates. He sighed. "The nightmares are back, aren't they?", though his inflection made it sound like more of a statement than a question.

She did not want to think about the nightmares - not the one from last night nor the one that would probably be waiting for her when she closed her eyes in fifteen hours. Sitting down, Ziva dismissed Tony from the conversation without saying the words exactly.

"I am fine Tony," she said, knowing it was a lie, and knowing he knew it was a lie. But like she told him one of the first nights, for now it was all she had.

**NCIS**

Slowly but surely the rest of the team filed in before their 0730 start time. No words were spoken beyond McGee's greeting and Gibbs' stare, which conveyed his concern more easily than if he'd tried to say something. It had been a quiet morning so far, but as the clock slipped past nine am, Gibbs turned and looked in Ziva's direction.

"Psyche eval today Ziver?" he asked.

Having become accustomed to the silence in the bullpen, Ziva jumped when Gibb said her name. It took her a second to focus on his words and then she shook her head once. "Not until this afternoon."

Tony listened to the exchange. Ziva's words were barely audible, as if she didn't want to disturb the stillness that surrounded them, even with the other teams bustling around on both sides of their workspace. He didn't like how she didn't elaborate, how her words were stilted and she didn't make eye contact. She was back to the minimalist sentences and Tony didn't want her regressing any more. He already missed the sound of her voice in his apartment. He didn't want to miss it at work as well.

Gibbs returned to the report he was reading, satisfied with her answer. Tim shot a curious look at Tony, but otherwise pretended like he didn't notice anything wrong with their behaviour. And Ziva stayed at her desk, working throughout the morning. At noon Tony walked by her desk and invited her to lunch, but she looked pale and said she was not hungry, though he watched her head for the breakroom later and saw her come back with a mug of tea that she slowly sipped over half an hour.

Tony had only just gotten back with his lunch in a take-out bag when the phone rang and Gibbs gave the order to grab their gear. He didn't think he was imagining the look of longing on his partner's face as she watched them go, leaving her behind again.

When they returned from the crime scene less than two hours later, Ziva's desk was empty and Tony's heart sped up, but calmed when he saw her leather bag still sticking out from under her desk. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hated it when she left without saying goodbye. His time as her guardian may officially have ended, but Tony still liked to know where she was, just in case.

She needed someone who would be there for her, someone who wouldn't let her down. After the unspeakable torment of a summer spent without her, without knowing where she was or even if she was alive, Tony was determined to become that person for her. No matter what it took, he would be Ziva's constant now, even when she wouldn't let him help.

**NCIS**

Halfway through her session with Dr. Andrews, the therapist threw Ziva for a curl. Up until that moment, they'd stuck to innocuous or at least civil topics - talking about some of Ziva's skills, the places she'd been for different missions, her ability to blend in, stand out or become invisible. They'd talked about her qualifications and the stresses of being an investigator at NCIS when she was still bound to Mossad.

They'd touched on how she joined Gibbs' team and how she felt now when they left on a call without her. Ziva did not like being on the outside. She'd spent her life on the other side, always kept separate from others, never allowed to be one of them. Now she knew what it was to be included, to be part of a group, to have people care. And Dr. Devon was slowly drawing her out about those things.

But out of the blue Devon looked at Ziva with eyes that seemed to see through all her defenses, and suddenly Ziva knew that the psychiatrist had put together enough pieces to guess at her nightmares and what was behind them. Devon pushed up her glasses and tucked a piece of hair behind her left ear.

"Tell me about the best dream you have ever had Ziva," she inquired, her voice soft and warm, her words carefully chosen, her face open, inviting Ziva to confide in her, "even if it goes back to your childhood."

Her childhood, or the little of one that she'd had. They'd discussed it in generalities but Ziva blatantly refused to get into it any deeper than that. Still, if she closed her eyes and allowed herself to remember, Ziva could see the moments of happiness, the moments of joy and pure innocence that had dotted her first several years of life.

There was Ari, her older brother whom she adored, teaching her to climb trees and use a slingshot to shoot figs off of trees. And Tali, born when Ziva was four and already used to being the favourite. But she'd come to love her younger sister fiercely, and would challenge any of the boys in the neighbourhood who dared make fun of the happy little girl. She remembered pushing Tali on an old swing in their backyard and listening to her laugh. The sisters had swam in ponds, climbed hills, and chased butterflies together.

The image of a butterfly floating in front of her brought Ziva back to the doctor's question, and it was a surprise for her to find that she had an answer. "As a child I dreamed of flying on butterfly wings, floating high in the sky and kissing the sun." She shook her head. "It is a silly dream. But I always woke with a smile on my face."

Dr. Andrews was silent as she absorbed Ziva's comment and she made a note on the lined pad resting in her lap. "You longed for freedom, possibly for escape, to get away from the violence that came with growing up where you did." It was an observation and Ziva shrugged, not willing to confirm or deny the doctor's words, not willing to think that deeply about a child's dream.

Then the moment arrived which Ziva had dreaded since early yesterday morning. Devon leaned forward and looked earnestly at her patient. "Tell me Ziva," she said slowly, "what is the worst thing you have ever dreamt?"

Fragmented pictures began to float through Ziva's mind, dredged up from the bottom where she hid them each day while the sun was out and the shadows were for the moment, subdued. She shook her head. "No," she whispered, "I do not want to talk about it." Gibbs' words of advice echoed in her thoughts but all Ziva wanted to do was curl up in a ball, squeeze her eyes shut, and put her hands over her ears. She didn't want to hear her screams again.

"You have to talk about it Ziva, you need to. If you don't, it will never go away." Devon's words had some merit but Ziva wondered if the doctor knew what she was asking. "It's okay Ziva, this is a safe place. No one here is going to hurt you."

The words were meant to be comforting but memories of Somalia tripped over themselves to rush back to the forefront of her memory and Ziva cringed. It was her head that was not a safe place to be in, there was nowhere she could go that the memories could not find her.

With all the strength she possessed, Ziva fought the pictures and sounds and emotions of Somaila. She shook her head fiercely, all but glaring at the doctor. "I do not want to talk about it today."

Seeing as she'd left the possibility open for bringing up the subject another day, Devon wisely changed the subject and Ziva focused on her breathing and the beating of her heart that still pounded in her ears. Somalia was back. She would not sleep tonight.

**NCIS**

Ziva was exhausted - physically, emotionally, and mentally - when she finally opened the door and stepped out into the hall, away from her therapist's questions and perceptive gaze. She started when the figure of a man stood out in her peripheral vision and spun around, relaxing marginally when she saw who it was.

"McGee," she looked confused. "What are you doing here?"

He was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, watching her closely. "I wanted to see if you were alright."

She sighed. That question was really starting to get on her nerves. "I am-" But he held up a hand and cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

"You're not fine Ziva," Tim said quietly. "You're tired and jumpy, nervous around Gibbs, me, even Tony." His tone indicated that, that fact alone was cause for concern.

"It is always strange, sleeping in a new place for the first time." It was a rather lame excuse, but she figured her friend might just buy it.

McGee frowned. "Yeah, well that's implying that you actually slept."

Hating the fact that she worked with people who noticed the details and cared enough to point them out, it was an annoyance right now when she needed some time alone to put on her mask again, Ziva huffed. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," Tim said easily, surprising her. "What are you doing after work?"

"I have to leave now," she pointed out. Once she was finished with her session, she couldn't stay in the building.

He looked at her expectantly. "So, your plans...?"

Ziva sighed. "I am going to look for apartments again, I suppose."

"Are you walking?"

The amount of questions was beginning to make her a little uncomfortable. "No," she said slowly, "I was going to take a cab."

Tim shrugged. "Waste of money."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I do not have a choice McGee."

"You do actually," he replied, smiling a little.

She narrowed her eyes. He had been spending too much time with Tony. He interpreted her look as a question and explained.

"The case is wrapping up already. The perp was really, really bad at covering his tracks. Gibbs has him in Interrogation now." He noted the way Ziva flinched at the word 'interrogation' and made a mental note to say something to Gibbs about it. "I just have to finish my report and then I'm done for the day." McGee pushed away from the wall and started to walk with her back to the stairs.

"Why don't I come pick you up at the Navy Lodge at about twenty after five? That should give you a chance to check out the Classifieds and make some phone calls, and then I'll play your chauffeur for a couple of hours. What do you say?"

Ziva hesitated, unsure about accepting help, even from Tim. But he looked so hopeful, so eager to be of assistance, that she found herself nodding slowly. "Alright McGee."

Tim squeezed her hand lightly, glad to see that she'd relaxed enough that she barely even flinched when his skin made contact with hers. "Great. I'll see you in about an hour then."

She nodded and entered the bullpen, reaching for her bag and glancing at Tony's desk. He was watching her with worried eyes but she didn't know what to say and turned away without a word. Frustrated, Tony took off after her, stepping in front of her before could get on the elevator.

He leaned closer to her and Ziva instinctively moved to avoid him, but then had to strain to hear his quiet words. "Anytime Ziva. For any reason. Even if you just want someone to hold your hand. Please remember that."

Tony pulled back and looked into her questioning eyes, relieved to see a hint of emotion there now. Anything was better than the lifelessness that had been there earlier. Smiling slightly, Ziva made a motion that might've been a nod, then moved around him to get on the elevator. He watched the doors close, thinking how small and fragile and painfully young she looked standing in there alone. In his heart he made a silent promise, one that would never be broken even if he never spoke the words out loud.

_I will always be here. Always._

For now it would have to do. Because the one thing he wanted so desperately to say, to show her, to prove, was the one thing she was not, and might never be, ready to hear. Just three little words but life rarely made it simple for those words to be spoken or received. Still, they burned in his heart like an undeniable truth. Three little words - I. Love. You.


	17. Chapter 17

At 1718 Ziva heard a knock on the door. She got up to check, knowing it could only be one person. Tim was always early. Reholstering her gun, she opened the door for him and smiled a little. "Hello McGee. Come in."

Tim stepped inside and took a cursory glance around the small room, then met Ziva's eyes. "Ready?"

She slipped her cellphone in one pocket, her keys in the other, and a hand written list in the back. "Yes."

Locking the door securely, Ziva walked down the stairs beside Tim, following him out of the Navy Lodge and nodding her thanks when he held the door open for her. He got in and started the engine. "Where to?"

Pulling out her list, Ziva read off the first address and McGee nodded. "I know that area. Let's go."

During her time in her room, Ziva had managed to secure four appointments to look at apartments in the next couple hours. McGee drove her to each one, stood behind her during the tours like a watchful brother, and gave her his honest opinion of each place she looked at.

The first building was in a neighbourhood he wouldn't let his sister walk through at night. "You don't want an apartment that is so cheap you have to watch your back every second." So that one was scratched off the list. The next apartment was very nice, open and airy, but it was a studio apartment over a bar. "You think sleeping in silence is hard? Try sleeping when the music is thirty decibels too loud and a bunch of less than sober people are singing and dancing along. Trust me, you're gonna want to shoot someone after a week."

Place number three held promise but the price was a little steep and Ziva wasn't sure about being twenty minutes away from work. McGee saw her hesitate and thanked the lady, saying they'd get back to her. But he knew that it was a no. The last apartment they looked at was close to work and McGee couldn't help but notice, close to Tony as well.

However, the apartment layout was very separated and everything was closed in, creating lots of shadows. He knew even before she shook her head that this one wouldn't work either. Tim had a feeling Ziva would want as much open space around her as possible now.

Finally they were back in the car but Tim relaxed into his seat and didn't start the engine. Ziva turned to look at him. The expression in her friend's eyes was heavy and sad somehow, but she didn't know why. At last he smiled. "Can I buy you dinner Ziva? There's this great little pita shack a couple of streets over."

Ziva wanted to make Tim's eyes happy again. "Are you asking me out McGee?" she teased. "I do not think that Abby would approve." Something flickered across McGee's face at the mention of Abby and Ziva sought to understand it. She cared deeply about her friends' happiness. "Is everything alright? With you and Abby?"

McGee sighed. "I don't know. I mean, I guess. Nothing is wrong I just...don't know what we're doing." She tilted her head to the side, soft brown curls falling down her back. Tim answered the question before she could voice it.

"I go home with her every night and wake up with her every morning. We make breakfast in her kitchen, share lunch in the lab and at restaurants, and go back to her place to find something for supper. We've gone grocery shopping, done laundry, washed dishes - I've even helped her clean. Half my stuff is there and Abby seems to like it, seems to need me, especially to fall asleep."

He dragged a hand down his face. "Somewhere after a movie or boardgame or reading out loud we end up in pjs, crawl under blankets on the air mattress, and Abby curls up beside me like she belongs there. And I'm pretty sure she does," Tim confessed quickly. "But that's all we do, sleep. I hold her all night, sometimes I can't even sleep because she's so close and it's hard."

"Because you love her," Ziva stated. They'd always know their geek and Goth had something more than just friendship going for them.

McGee nodded. "I never stopped. She's the other half of my heart, she keeps the nightmares away. We're sharing a life, except it's not really ours."

Ziva brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. On a nice day like today, shorts and even capris would have been nice, but she wore thin khaki pants and a long sleeved cotton blouse. "What do you want McGee?" she asked, sensing that was the heart of his issue.

He raised startled eyes to hers. "I don't know. I know I don't want it to be like before. I want something real with her, something solid, something no one can take away. I want to make sure I never have to live without her, never have to wake up and find her gone, never have to be alone again."

Ziva was quiet for awhile. "May I offer some advice?" she said at last.

Tim agreed immediately. "Please."

"Move slowly. It has been a...strange and different month. You and Abby are playing house but maybe you need to try something else, to start from the beginning instead of the middle."

"The beginning?" Time repeated, unsure of her meaning.

She nudged his arm. "Take her on a date McGee. And when you figure out what you want, make sure Abby is ready to hear it."

Silently Tim absorbed her words. Finally he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks Ziva, that helps."

"I am glad," she replied simply.

"So," McGee raised an eyebrow, "dinner?"

She looked into his clear green eyes. "I would like that. But it is not a date."

"No," Tim agreed. "It's just two friends spending some time together."

"Good," Ziva said, buckling her seatbelt.

A few streets over Tim parked under the shade of two large maple trees across the road from a place called Pilot Pita. Ziva frowned at the sign as they got out of the car. "I do not understand." She pointed at the words. "What does a pita have to do with planes?"

Tim chuckled. "I never really thought about it that way. I don't know. But the food here is great."

Confronted with a menu board and what appeared to be at least a dozen choices, Ziva suddenly felt overwhelmed. Watching her face closely, McGee figured something must be wrong. "I always get the BLT," he told her, "but I've heard the turkey is really good too."

Ziva smiled her thanks and when it was their turn, McGee gave their orders. Choosing toppings was not so hard and she went with mostly vegetables, already missing being able to cook as she'd been doing at Tony's. They were back outside in less than ten minutes and McGee waved towards a bench in the middle of the park near his car. There was a fountain and some flowerbeds and Ziva craved the peaceful feeling it brought.

The two friends sat and unwrapped their pitas. Tim watched Ziva out of the corner of his eye, glad to see her eating and enjoying. He vividly remembered how she had not been able to keep down the granola bar they offered her on the plane home from Somalia before she fell asleep.

McGee thought he understood a little - for days after their return even the thought of Somalia, the terrorists, and the cell made his stomach turn. He let Ziva eat more than half her pita before broaching a topic he wouldn't bring up with anyone else.

"I don't know how you did it Ziva," Tim began and she looked at him strangely, setting down her food.

"Did what McGee?"

He sighed. "Survived Somalia." Her eyes widened and McGee knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to talk about, but he felt compelled to continue anyways. "Tony and I were only there for a day. In that same hot, dusty room with no water or food. The worst we got was beat up and I even escaped the truth serum Saleem gave Tony, because one of his guys hit me a little too hard with the butt of his gun and knocked me unconscious."

Ziva's eyebrows drew together and she almost reached out to put her hand on his arm, but held back, the memory of touch that equaled pain returning. "I am sorry McGee, for what you went through." She shook her head slowly. "Perhaps you should not have come. I did not want anyone else to get hurt because of me." The guilt weighed heavily on her heart.

"Hey," McGee waited until Ziva looked at him again, "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. You have no idea how glad I was to hear your voice Ziva, after we thought we'd lost you. Don't ever think any of us regret going to get you or bringing you home."

His hand brushed her shoulder and Ziva tried hard not to move away. "You're family Ziva, just like Tony, Abby, Ducky, Jimmy, and Gibbs. We'll always come for you." Tim bit his lip. "I just want you to know that you're not alone. Those first three nights at home Ziva, I couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. I'd see Saleem pointing that gun at my head, standing beside you with a knife, ordering his men to hit me again." He swallowed.

"And I only had one day there Ziva. You had three months." Tim blinked quickly. "You're the strongest person I know. And someday you're going to find someone who'll keep the nightmares away. In fact," he gave her a knowing look, "I think you already know him."

Ziva chose to ignore the hint about Tony and instead offered him a small smile. This time she did reach out, though only her fingertips rested on Tim's arm. "Thank you McGee," she said softly, "for coming to rescue me. I do not know if I remembered to say it before."

McGee's smile grew until she could see his dimples. "You're welcome Ziva. That's what friends are for."

_Yes_, she thought as they got up and walked back to his car, _and today I will be thankful for friends_.

**NCIS**

Tony dragged himself in the door of his apartment around six pm. He'd finished his report but had been in no hurry to leave. Abby came up and caught him staring at Ziva's empty desk, so she perched on the edge of his and told him a silly story about Bert and bowling and cemetery parties until he had to smile. Abby saw it and decided her mission was accomplished. And he still got a hug so he didn't feel quite as down as he had. Abby had that effect on people.

But now he was home and away from her big smile and bubbly personality. His apartment was dark and empty, flipping on the lights only cured one of those issues. The emptiness he felt in a place that had felt like home up until yesterday could only be filled by one person, and she seemed determined to keep him at arm's length for a reason he had yet to uncover.

Heaving a sigh, Tony grabbed his phone and the takeout menu for his favourite pizza place from the end table drawer. He was just about to dial the numbers when he heard Ziva's voice in his head. _We need to be grown up'sTony. You cannot live off take out._

The words depressed him even more but he couldn't even press the 'on' button on the phone without seeing her dark eyes looking at him with disapproval. "Fine," he muttered into the stillness, and pushed himself off the couch. Tony stomped into the kitchen like a little boy who'd just been grounded from his favourite toy. He pulled out a pot, filled it with water, and dropped the lid on with a loud clang. A glass bowl was set harshly in the microwave after he dumped a jar of spaghetti sauce into it and tossed a towel over top.

But nothing Tony was doing made enough noise to drown out the silence, so he strode over to his movie collection and grabbed Jim Carey's Ace Ventura off a shelf, hoping it would at least lighten the mood. He put it on and went back to the kitchen to check the water.

Bowtie noodles were poured into the bubbling liquid a little bit gentler, and by the time his pasta was ready and in a bowl smothered with red sauce, Tony could at least breathe again and his frustration had turned into sadness and longing. Longing for what was, for what could have been, should be. He hoped Ziva was okay tonight but knew her odds of getting a restful sleep weren't good. Nothing was worse than not knowing.

**NCIS**

For Ziva, the nightmare came at 0200. This one was the worst so far and she woke up gasping for air as the darkness and all its hidden terrors closed in on her, leaving no escape. If she'd been able to breathe she might've cried, but her gasps for air became real and Ziva panicked, realizing she couldn't draw a full breath.

Then she heard something and she could swear her partner was actually in the room with her, holding her close and talking to her softly. Tony's voice in her head sounded so real and she focused on his words. _Easy Zi, it's alright. You're safe now, no one's going to hurt you. I'm here Ziva, I'll always be here. Take a deep breath, there you go, now another._

She remembered his hand stroking her hair and his voice whispering in her ear as he held her tightly against him - protecting her, always keeping her safe. Suddenly Ziva's longing to feel that way again overpowered her tenuous cling to independence. Needing Tony was a weakness she could not afford, but still she found herself dialing his number with shaking fingers. Huddled in the corner, Ziva pressed the phone to her ear and listened to it ring, desperate to hear his voice.

Three rings, four, then a click and Tony's sleepy, "H'lo?"

"Tony?" Ziva could hear the tears in her voice and resented them and the weakness they represented. She refused to let them fall.

Tony pushed himself up from his laying down position on the couch where he'd fallen asleep. "Ziva, what's wrong?" His pulse was racing the second her voice came on the phone.

He heard a stifled sob and closed his eyes, wishing she was here. "The darkness Tony, it was everywhere and...bad things happen in the dark," she whispered, her voice faltering in the middle.

Tony was already pulling on his shoes and looking for his keys, his heart breaking because of everything she was telling him without words. "Stay on the phone Ziva," he ordered gently. "I'm on my way."

"No."

The word broke through his focus and Tony stopped beside the kitchen counter. "It's not problem Zi, really. I'll come get you or I'll stay there, whatever works. It's going to be okay."

He could almost hear her shaking her head. "You cannot always save me Tony," she said firmly, though he caught a bit of wistfulness in her tone.

"Ziva, please." _Let me help_, he begged her silently.

"I am sorry I woke you up. Good night." There was a click and then nothing, just blankness where her voice had been and Tony was alone again.

_You cannot always save me Tony_, her words echoed in his head, in his heart.

Tony slumped against the wall, his phone falling to the floor._ But I would if you'd let me_, he thought, dropping his head into his hands. _Please Ziva, I need you to let me. _He didn't think it could get any worse than her being gone, but being so far away and knowing she needed him even if she wouldn't admit it, that was definitely worse.


	18. Chapter 18

0400 hours found Tony lurking outside the doors of the NCIS training gym. Taking a breath and holding it, he silently pushed open one door and peeked inside. There was Ziva, running full out on the middle treadmill. Tony watched her for several seconds before returning to the hallway.

_She's up, so I'm up_, he thought wearily. Good thing he'd come in the sweats he'd woken up in. It looked like he was going to use all ten flights of the NCIS HQ building as his own personal stairmaster for the next hour.

**NCIS**

The muscles in Tony's legs ached, but they were nothing compared to the heaviness in his heart. He leaned his head against the shower wall and let the almost scalding water wash over his back, beating the soreness out of the tight muscles.

With slow movements he washed, scraping away the sweat of his workout and the helplessness he'd felt since Ziva hung up the phone last night. It was a new day and Tony desperately hoped that he'd be able to find a way to regain the lost ground in his relationship with her. It was killing him to just sit on the sidelines and watch what the dreams were doing to her.

Finally he shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as the steam rose to the ceiling and clung stubbornly to the mirror. Tony smeared his hand across the glass to clear a spot, and stared at the haggard face reflected back at him. It was going to be very hard to put on a smile and find a joke to tell today. The weight in his heart felt like a thousand extra pounds he was dragging around and in body, mind, and soul Tony was tired.

But there was a routine to be followed, no time to dwell on dark thoughts - dry off, get dressed, fix hair. Boxers first, then socks. An undershirt and striped, long sleeved shirt to tuck into the carefully pressed pants that were next. Specially concealed knife in his belt buckle, check. He pulled on his suit jacket, first one arm, then the other. Memorized patterns let his fingers tie his blue tie and straighten it.

Last Tony dug his fingers into his damp hair, dragging a towel over it again, and styling it meticulously with gel from his locker. When at last he was satisfied, Tony stood back from the mirror and looked at himself. He looked like Tony. Today it would have to do.

Twisting his wrist around, Tony swept the sleeve of his jacket back to check the time. 0600. Odds were Ziva was just finishing getting ready in the women's changeroom across the wall, but heading up to the squadroom now would tip his hand and Tony wasn't quite ready to let Ziva know how obsessive his care and concern for her was.

Well, there was one other place he could go to be alone with his thoughts, that would be quiet for at least another hour. Actually, there were two places, but Tony wasn't a huge fan of hanging out with dead bodies, even if Ducky thought Autopsy was rather peaceful early in the morning. His options were narrowed to one. He got in the elevator and pushed the button for Basement Level One.

**NCIS**

At 0700 Abby walked into her lab and flipped on the lights. "Good morning everyone!" she said cheerfully. "I hope you all had a good night's rest because if the team gets a case today we're going to be busy. You know Gibbs," Abby laughed, "he always wants answers now."

Heading into her office to throw her Wake Up Mix into the CD player, she frowned in surprise when she saw Tony sitting in her chair and staring blankly at the computer screen. Redirected, Abby perched on the desk beside him and tilted her head to look at Tony. "Hey there big brother," she said softly. "Something on your mind?"

Tony smiled weakly and glanced up at her. "Just thought I'd get my dose of Abby this morning before heading to my desk, that's all."

Abby stood up and tugged at his arm. "If that's your way of asking for a hug Tony, the answer is always yes."

Tony got out of the chair and allowed Abby to wrap her arms around him. He hugged her back like she was his last link to sanity. Abby could feel the tension in Tony's shoulders and back and she knew this was about something, or rather someone, very important.

At last she let him go and looked into his sad, green eyes. "Ziva?" Abby asked.

Tony forced a short laugh. "Who else? It's always been about Ziva. For the last six months it's been about Ziva." Abby could see him getting angry but decided to let the emotion run its course. "I was injured for her, I faced Eli for her, I would've died for her in that terror camp! What more could she possibly want?"

The depth of his anguish surprised Abby and she wondered how she hadn't seen it before. She curled her fingers around his. "Oh Tony," she whispered, "when did you fall in love and I didn't notice?"

Tony dropped back into her chair and brought his hands up to cover his face. "I'm way past falling Abs. More like trying to figure out what to do next because I've missed the point of no return and the train is gonna push my Dolorian right off the cliff. I have to decide - to jump or not to jump. But I don't think anyone wants to catch me if I jump."

Abby smiled a little at the Back to the Future reference. "What's wrong Tony?"

"She won't let me help Abby! Two weeks of doing everything I could to help her come back, to nudge her towards getting comfortable and recovery, and now she won't even let me in. What did I do wrong?"

The hurt in her friend's voice made Abby want to cry and if she hadn't already yelled at Ziva once regarding the guy who was like her brother, she'd be tempted to do it again. But right now she had to figure out how to calm Tony down enough that when he went upstairs in twenty minutes, he wouldn't crumble the first time someone looked him in the eye.

"Hey," she tipped up his chin and shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong Tony. Since you guys brought Ziva back I've watched you do everything right with her. But she lived through three months of stuff I don't even want to think about, let alone dream about. A month of sleeping on couches and being surrounded by friends isn't going to fix what happened to her."

Abby paused and bit her lip. "She's trying to find a home, trying to find her feet, learning that people, that we, can be trusted again. I know it's not what you want to hear, but maybe you just need to give her some space to figure everything out."

Tony sighed. "You've been spending too much time with Ducky Abs. I don't know how much advice I can take right now."

"Timmy looked at apartments with her yesterday," Abby suddenly shared, and Tony's head jerked up. "I guess they talked and well...he wouldn't tell me everything, but he said Ziva is trying really hard to figure out what she wants. Give her some time Tony, and maybe she'll let you help with that."

Tony swallowed hard. He knew they were all friends, practically family, and they all cared about Ziva. So why did it hurt that she'd turned to McGee instead of him? He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, thanks for the chat Abs, but I better go before Gibbs beats me to the bullpen."

Her soft touch on his arm stopped him and Abby wrapped him in another tight hug. "It's going to be okay Tony," she whispered. "I don't know when, but someday it's going to be okay." Tony nodded and sadly, she watched him go. She'd started out trying to comfort Tony, now Abby wished McGee was around so she could get a hug too.

Tony hurried to the elevator and stopped it between floors. He needed to hide his heart away again. If he was wearing it on his sleeve when he got upstairs, Ziva would know and Tony couldn't handle any more blows, not today.

**NCIS**

Tony entered the squadroom to find Ziva and McGee already present. Aside from a glance, he offered nothing in the way of greeting and sat down, getting right to work. After ten seconds Ziva looked up. After thirty McGee stopped typing and listened carefully as if something was missing. At a minute both turned and stared straight at him, and inwardly Tony sighed. If he'd come in with a joke as usual or talked about some movie, nobody would've thought twice. But by being silent he automatically attracted their attention.

Pretending he didn't notice their penetrating stares, Tony picked up a file and flipped it open. When two more minutes had passed, McGee's gaze swivelled to Ziva, who kept her eyes on Tony a moment longer before shrugging. A fleeting thought ran through her mind and Ziva wondered if Tony's unnatural quietness was related to her phone call last night.

But as quickly as it came, Ziva dismissed the idea. Surely Tony had other things to worry about, things that didn't include her...right? Regardless, she spent the next couple hours stealing glances at him and wishing she knew what was wrong. Enough people worried about her since Somalia. Perhaps Tony needed someone worrying about him too.

**NCIS**

Ever since his talk with Ziva the previous night, McGee had been thinking. She was his friend, and he trusted her honest opinion as a woman as well. But what she'd suggested was far from easy. What did starting from the beginning mean for him and Abby? Did it mean they stopped spending every spare second together? No longer sharing meals or rides to work? No coming home and spending the evening together, then falling asleep in each other's arms?

As much as the life they were sharing had been making Tim uneasy, it made him sick to think of losing any of those moments that had become normal to them over the last month. But something had to change, they couldn't keep going as they were.

He wanted a life with Abby, he wanted forever, and yet as much as they slept beside each other each night, he'd only kissed her twice since he got back. They needed to decide what they were and what they were going to be. But first McGee needed to do what Ziva suggested and decide what he wanted. He pulled out a scrap piece of paper and started to write.

**NCIS**

By mid-morning Tony couldn't take it any more. He couldn't just sit across from Ziva, seeing her, feeling her presence, even able to smell her coconut body wash from his desk. With everything going on in his heart and in his head, it was too much.

Finally he shoved back his chair and strode quickly out of the squadroom, muttering something inaudible about coffee, not waiting to see if he had permission. Gibbs watched his Senior Field Agent leave, but said nothing. It had been obvious all morning that Tony had something on his mind and a good boss knew when to give his agents space to work things out. He needed Tony clearheaded if they got a case.

The unexpected happened when Tim got up a couple of minutes later and followed his teammate out. It had been a slow morning, Gibbs decided wouldn't miss them for twenty minutes. But he couldn't help noticing the way Ziva shifted uncomfortably in her chair, how her eyes strayed after the guys. He wondered if she knew what this was all about. Only time would tell.

**NCIS**

Tony took a deep breath when he finally reached fresh air outside the building. He headed for the stand across the courtyard that served coffee, muffins, and mildly stale donuts at a slightly higher price than the local Starbucks. But availability and close proximity meant more to the agents who often spent all day running in and out of the NCIS building.

Fishing for change in his pocket, Tony ordered his coffee black and took a seat on a stone bench nearby. When another shadow crossed his sun and joined him, Tony knew without asking who it was. In the old days it might've been Ziva who followed him out of the office. But with her being the cause this time, Tony was glad to glance beside him and see McGee.

For a long time the guys just sat in silence, sipping their coffee. Finally Tony dropped his head into his hands, not looking at McGee or the sunshine or the people milling around the courtyard. At last he sighed, unable to keep the words in any longer.

"You ever see that room in your dreams Probie?" he asked. "Those guys with guns? Saleem's sick grin?"

McGee nodded slowly. "I've seen it Tony."

Finally Tony looked up and met his friend's eyes. "Well, I've seen it in her dreams Tim, and that's something I'll never forget. It's kinda hard to get a good night's sleep when I know what she's fighting."

"Does Ziva know?" McGee asked, and Tony frowned.

"Know what?"

"That you love her. That you're losing sleep because she is."

Tony let out a long breath and shook his head slowly. "Ziva doesn't want to know Tim. I've tried...but ever since she stopped staying at my place, she won't let me in."

"Maybe you can't save her Tony," McGee said thoughtfully, flashing back to the kind of woman their teammate used to be.

Tony's head jerked up. "Why not?"

Tim knew it wouldn't be easy to make his friend see, but some things weren't in his control, no matter how much he wanted them to be. "You brought her home Tony, your persistence sent us there and we found her alive." He paused. "But Ziva's home now, she's here, and she's safe from everything except her memories. Maybe she won't let you help because this time she needs to remember how to save herself."

"I want more for her than the nightmares," Tony whispered hoarsely, and McGee hurt for how much this situation was affecting his friend.

McGee put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Loving Ziva isn't going to be easy Tony, but I know you're the man for the job." He hesitated but figured he'd gone this far, he may as well finish his thought. "If what you're doing isn't working, maybe it's time for a new approach."

With that Tim got up from the bench and headed back into the building.

"Hey Probie," Tony called, and McGee looked back.

"Yeah?"

Tony gave him a half-grin that wasn't as forced as it would've been half an hour ago. "Thanks."

McGee nodded and smiled. "You're welcome Tony. Friends, right?"

Tony absorbed the word and bobbed his head. "Yeah, friends."

Then Tim was gone and Tony was left alone with his thoughts again. But now he sent them in a new direction. Ziva wouldn't let him be her knight in slightly tarnished armour, nor accept him as the man who loved her. But maybe, just maybe, she'd let him be her friend again. And now Tony knew just where to start. Perhaps it would turn out to be a good day after all.

**NCIS**

McGee took a detour to the lab on the way back to the squadroom, his list clutched tightly in one hand. Now that he'd taken to giving advice, it was only fair that he started taking some. He walked into the lab and briefly noted that the music was turned down.

"Hi Abby."

Abby turned around, the smile dying on her lips and a frown creasing her brow when she saw his serious expression. "What's wrong?"

Tim sighed. He hadn't meant for her to jump to conclusions. But they had to have this conversation. "Abby, what are we?"

She looked at him blankly. "What are we?" she repeated. "We're friends McGee. You're my best friend." A wince he tried to hide flashed on his face and suddenly Abby understood. "Oh. You mean what are we...now."

"Yes Abby," McGee clarified a little impatiently. "What are we now that we're sharing all our meals and driving to work together and falling asleep side by side and when I'm pretty much living at your apartment."

Abby leaned back against her computer desk. "What do you want us to be McGee?"

Tim shook his head sadly. "I've know what I want with you for quite some time Abby. I guess now what I need to know is if you want the same thing and if you want it with me."

"I don't want you to go." Her voice was quiet.

"I don't want to go," McGee admitted. "But what are we doing Abby?"

Her eyes filled with worry and frustration. "We're being together Tim, isn't that enough? Do you always have to put a label on everything?"

"Yes." Even if it cost him, McGee needed to know. It was something too important to be in the dark about.

Abby seemed about to get angry, to make a scene and ream him out for having too many expectations and ruining everything they had going. But then she closed her mouth and looked away for several seconds while McGee got more and more nervous. Finally she sighed.

"Alright McGee. I want you to be my boyfriend, though I kind of thought you already were. Is that what you want?"

Tim took her hands, his clear green eyes boring into hers. "That's part of it. But I think I'll save the rest for later. For now..." he took a deep breath, "Abby Scuito, will you go on a date with me?"

A slow smile spread over Abby's face and she pulled her hands free only to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'd love to Timmy."

A hair's breadth away from kissing her, McGee resisted and just held her close, smiling into her shoulder. So far, so good.


	19. Chapter 19

"I heard you've got a new McBest Friend," Tony said snidely when Ziva returned from delivering a report for Gibbs.

Her eyebrows lifted. "Where did you hear that?"

He shrugged. "Abby mentioned it."

Ziva's eyes were laughing at him now. "Are you jealous Tony?"

"No!" Tony scoffed, answering too quickly._ Yes_, his heart cried. _Why didn't you pick me Ziva?_ But thinking things like that would not help him with the 'friends' approach. "I mean," he covered, "Probie's already got his own dark angel. Two might be more than he could handle."

She twirled a pen between her fingers. "Do not worry Tony. I would not try to steal McGee from Abby, though he is very sweet. Besides," Ziva almost didn't finish the sentence but he needed to know his place, "I already have a best friend. And you can only have one."

Tony didn't need to hear his name in her declaration to know what she meant. He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Alright then." He went back to work but stole glances at her every once in awhile. Best friend. Yeah, for now that would do. Tony DiNozzo was discovering patience he didn't know he had, and for today it was just enough.

**NCIS**

By 1400 hours Ziva was sitting in Dr. Andrews' office again, trying to stay perfectly still and not fidget while the therapist asked her questions she did not want to answer.

Devon tapped her pen on her clipboard. "Do you ever want to hurt people who have not done anything to you?" They were talking about impulses today. Devon needed to make sure Ziva wasn't a danger to anyone, especially after everything she'd been through.

Ziva stifled the urge to roll her eyes and did not share that, before she'd gone back to Israel, she was well known for threatening co-workers and suspects with violence and bodily harm when they touched, annoyed, or looked at her wrong. So Ziva just went with a very simple, "No."

The doctor uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, Ziva couldn't help but think that her skirt would be most inappropriate for field work. "And what about people who have hurt you? Do you want to hurt them back?"

Knowing Devon wouldn't believe a 'no' answer for that one, not with Ziva's personnel file sitting right beside her, Ziva sighed and picked an answer halfway between truth and saying the right thing. "Sometimes."

The psychiatrist raised one eyebrow at her patient who was being particularly monosyllabic today. "Ziva," she said gently, "you have been through a lot of trauma in the last few months, are you sure you are ready to again face the kind of violence you will daily see in your job?"

Three sessions and that was the closest either of them had gotten to mentioning Somalia. But Ziva had been through psyche evals before and she knew the coded question in the doctor's words was really asking if she was a danger to herself or others because of being held hostage for three months and all that went with it.

"I am Israeli," Ziva said at last. "I grew up in a country filled with turmoil and the danger of war. I have seen violence all my life. It is not a problem."

"Does it bother you that you are so accustomed to violence?" Dr. Andrews asked. It bothered her, but she could not change her patient's past.

"No," Ziva said shortly, her eyes narrowing. "Can we talk about something else?"

The doctor looked at Ziva's tired posture, the dark circles under her eyes, the strain showing in her face. "How are you sleeping?"

"I do not see how my sleep is any of your concern," Ziva bit out.

Devon shrugged. "You need to be well rested in order to do your job Ziva. If you're having troubles getting a good night's sleep, I can prescribe some sleeping pills that might help-"

"No." Ziva held up her hands. "I do not need to take any medication." She rarely, if ever, took any drugs if she could help it, and inside Ziva shuddered to think what it would be like to be in a forced sleep, not able to wake up and get out of the place her dreams took her.

The therapist glanced at the clock, then down at her notes. At this rate they were in for a long, trying session if Ziva refused to talk. But it was amazing what could be learned by the words that were left unsaid.

**NCIS**

Ziva sighed and paused inside the stairwell door. She wished she did not have to face the others before she left. Her appointment with the shrink left her feeling defenseless, as if her walls were in shambles and she wasn't sure she had the strength to build them back up again.

Only McGee and Tony were in the bullpen. Ziva looked at Gibbs' desk and glanced at her partner with raised eyebrow. Tony grinned and jerked his head towards the impenetrable steel door of MTAC. Ziva nodded her understanding as she sat down and McGee watched the whole exchange in fascination, marveling at the ability his teammates had always possessed to speak without words.

Ziva was gathering her things when suddenly Tony's voice spoke right beside her and she jumped, then looked up to find him leaning his arms on the partition by her desk. "Now who is being sneaky?" she asked pointedly, recalling the many times she'd delighted in scaring her partner by being able to appear places almost as creepily as Gibbs.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Payback David. Sucks, doesn't it?" Ziva ignored him and began sliding items into her leather shoulder bag. "So," he tried again, "what now?"

She frowned at him. "Feeling a little snappy today?"

Tony chuckled. "Snoopy Zee-vah. And yes, now that you mention it, as your official best friend I think I get the privilege of being nosy. Where are you going?"

Knowing answering was easier than trying to get rid of him, Ziva went with the first option. "Back to the Navy Lodge, I suppose."

"Got any plans for the afternoon/evening?" he asked next.

Ziva shrugged. "I will continue to look for an apartment."

"Any chance you're going to want company later?" Tony inquired hopefully, and a little regretfully Ziva shook her head.

"Not tonight Tony."

"But soon, right?" After two weeks of constant togetherness, Tony was really getting tired of watching his movies alone.

A glimmer of a smile lifted her lips and Ziva agreed. "Yes, soon." She moved past him and Tony turned, staying in her personal space. He reached out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, pleased when she didn't jerk away this time.

"It's been kinda lonely in my bed you know," he smiled slightly.

Ziva remembered the four nights she'd spent laying next to Tony, finding comfort in his hug, reassurance in his nearness. The feelings were so strong she could not bring herself to meet his eyes, lest he read more in hers than she wanted him to know. "I should go," she mumbled, and Tony was forced to watch her leave, again.

At his desk, McGee had overheard the quiet remark and was working really hard not to let his jaw drop to the floor. It was a joke, right? Tony and Ziva, they would never...would they? And Rule #12? Well, it didn't seem quite so unbreakable since Somalia.

An image came to his mind of his friends in bed together and Tim willed it away. No way they'd actually been sleeping together. It was just Tony being Tony. And he'd keep telling himself that. The alternative left far too many unanswered questions.

**NCIS**

It was early evening following another fruitless, late afternoon of apartment viewings, when there was a knock on Ziva's Navy Lodge door. The noise had her reaching for her gun. She was absolutely not expecting company. Though she wouldn't put it past Tony to show up even after she'd said no. The man didn't do well with the 'n' word.

But to her surprise the person standing on the other side of her door was not Tony, it was Abby. Ziva's hand dropped, returning the gun to its holster, and her expression grew puzzled. "Hello Abby."

"Uh, hi." The Goth shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. Then the words came out in one big rush. "So I was thinking maybe I could tag along with you to see some apartments, or maybe we could go get a drink or see a movie, anything really." She held up her hands. "I just, miss our girl time Ziva. I think we need some."

Ziva relaxed. "I'm sorry Abby," the girls' face fell and she hastened to explain, "I have already looked at enough apartments today, and I am not...up to going out. But perhaps," Abby's smile began edging back onto her face and Ziva finished, "you would like to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?"

Abby nodded and practically dragged Ziva out of the room. "That would be great. It will give us a chance to talk."

An hour later as they lingered over the brownies Abby had insisted they needed for dessert, the black-haired girl was still talking. It was mostly rambling nonsense that did not require an answer, and for that Ziva was glad. After seeing Dr. Andrews earlier, she was all done talking.

But suddenly, in the middle of one particular rant, Abby fell silent. She poked at her brownie a few times with the fork and looked back up at Ziva, taking a breath finally. "McGee asked me on a date today," she blurted out, and Ziva perked up.

"He did?" she asked, smiling, glad he had taken her advice. She hadn't expected him to ask on it so quickly. "That was nice. Did you say yes?"

Abby grinned and tugged on one braid. "Well, after I basically asked him to be my boyfriend, it would've been kind of rude to turn the poor guy down."

Ziva put her hand on Abby's arm, the action taking less thought this time. "So it is official?"

The girl nodded. "It only took a month of him living at my place, but yeah, we're official." Abby cocked her head to the side. "You put Tim up to it, didn't you?" When her friend looked confused, Abby tried again. "It was your idea for him to ask me out?"

"I may have made a few suggestions yesterday," Ziva hedged, "but I did not tell him anything he did not already know or want to do. I think McGee just needed to hear the words in a different voice."

Abby smiled. "Well, thanks."

"What is next?" Ziva asked, watching her friend lick whipped cream off the end of her fork.

Abby chewed on her lip a little. "I don't know. I've never been really good with commitment or relationships or anything serious before. What if I'm no good at being grown up?"

Although Ziva wanted to laugh, Abby's expression was so serious and worried that she couldn't. "Abby," Ziva said slowly, "do you love McGee?"

Her eyes snapped up. "I...umm..." she faltered, looking scared.

"I will not tell anyone," Ziva assured her. "Do you feel it in your heart, that you love this man? Six years and no one else has ever taken his place in your life or your place in his."

Understanding dawned and Abby nodded jerkily. "Yes. I do love him Ziva. But I don't know what that means. What do we do now?"

"That depends," Ziva began, "on what you want."

Abby sighed. "I just want Timmy. I want everything we've had for the last month and more. I want to know he'll be there when I fall asleep and when I wake up, that when I come home it means wherever Tim is." She smiled shyly. "I just want us Ziva, whatever that means."

Ziva squeezed Abby's arm lightly. "I think you and McGee will be fine. It is very clear that you belong together. You are..." she frowned, searching for a word, and used her hands to try to illustrate her point, "...more complete when it is both of you together instead of just one or the other."

Abby grinned and wiggled in her seat. "I like the way that sounds, both of us together. Come on Ziva," she dropped the subject completely and jumped up, pulling the other woman to her feet, "let's go for a drive."

Ziva balked. "A drive to where?"

Abby shrugged. "Just...anywhere. We can go somewhere outside the city and watch the stars for awhile."

Part of Ziva wanted to say no and go back to her room. The other part craved the feeling of freedom she got from being spontaneous. "Alright," she agreed, "that sounds like fun."

"Great," Abby bounced on ahead and then turned around to look at her friend. "Hey Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

Ziva smiled. "You are welcome Abby."

"And just so you know," Abby continued, "Tim and I aren't the only ones who belong together. Your green eyed knight is waiting just around the corner, all you have to do it tell him it's okay to come out."

There was no hidden meaning in Abby's words, they were as clear as the green eyes she saw at night, the ones that were concerned for her, filled with compassion, friendship, and more that she wasn't yet ready to explore. Not wanting to dash Abby's hope completely, but not willing to make impossible promises either, Ziva simply brushed off the comment.

"You have been watching that Princess movie again, haven't you?"

Disappointment filled Abby's gaze and she sighed quietly before answering the question. "The Princess Bride? Yeah, Tim watches it with me. But when you get a place, maybe I'll bring it over sometime. Everyone should watch it at least once."

"Yes," Ziva said, getting in the car. "I have heard that." Then she put on her seatbelt and they left to go find some stars.

**NCIS**

_Knives. Needles. Whips. Shackles._

_Fine lines carved deeper and deeper until the skin broke and she bled and bled all over the dusty dirt floor of her prison. Drugs that clouded her mind and questions, always questions, trying to make her tell them, trying to get her to give up her family. But she would not tell. Even when she couldn't think, she would not tell._

_How many lashes? One, two, five, ten, fifteen, and then came blessed darkness that never lasted long enough. Her back was bruised and ripped and torn. Raw and bloody and painful even with the shallowest of breaths that she took, no longer wanting to stay alive._

_The shackles were the worst. Chained to walls, to floors, to tables and to chairs. Hung up so high her feet barely touched the ground. Chained standing up and sitting down with her arms above her head as the feeling faded away and rest was not allowed._

_Chained at each arm and leg, spread out with no defense against their attacks that got more personal than the beatings. One after another while the rest waited and watched and laughed. It was the closest she ever came to breaking, until the day she just shut down, determined to stop feeling anything at all. Soul murder._

Ziva woke up sweating, her chest heaving as she tried to get air. Fumbling fingers grabbed her cell phone and dialed Tony's speed dial number before she could even think, because all she wanted in that moment was to hear the gentle voice she got used to hearing in her ear when the nightmares finally let her go. But by the time he answered, Ziva's clarity was returning.

"Hello?" Tony said, waiting. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to answer. He hesitated, "Zi?" he asked softly.

Heart pounding, Ziva punched the cancel button and dropped her phone back on the bedside table. Then and there she made a vow to herself that this would be the last time she called Tony after a dream. She didn't want to need him, she didn't want to be vulnerable. She wanted to be strong, unbreakable. She had never been broken until now.

Ziva knew that no matter how many people loved her or wanted to help, she had to figure out how to do this on her own. Without him, without any of them. Just Ziva, alone, like she'd always been. She drew and deep breath, lay back down, and curled her fingers around her gun, closing her eyes. She would get through this, no matter what. Even if it hurt, she would do it alone.


	20. Chapter 20

Tony stared at his blank phone for a long time before finally flipping it closed in defeat. Leaning back onto the couch, he sighed, trying not to hear her shaky breathing on the other end of the line. He knew it was Ziva, even before he checked the number. He even held his breath for a moment, thinking this might be the night she would let him help. But then she stayed silent, not admitting she needed or wanted to hear his voice, even when he guessed at the ID of his caller.

Shoving his fingers frustratedly into his hair, Tony closed his eyes. _She's your friend DiNozzo. Not your girlfriend, not your lover, not even a fling - just your friend_, his logic reminded him.

_Best friend_, he argued back.

_Love of my life_, his heart whispered, but he changed it to,_ most amazing woman I've ever known_, because the other sounded too cheesy.

But still, no matter what else he wanted, 'friend' was all he could be. Looking around his empty, dark apartment, Tony decided it was time for bed. Almost a week and still Ziva's scent lingered on the sheets and pillow, it was the first thing he noticed every time he laid down. He'd sleep on his side again tonight and maybe, just maybe, he could dream good dreams of her, of both of them together. Someday when she let him be more than just her friend.

**NCIS**

It was almost 1000 and Ziva was preparing for her second last therapy session with Dr. Andrews. The morning had been quiet and right now they were alone, just Tony and Ziva. Gibbs, as usual, was out for coffee, and Abby had appeared upstairs several minutes ago, demanding Tim's presence in her lab. Ordinarily Tony would've felt the need to pry, and most likely tease McGee incessantly about what he and Abby might be doing, but today his focus was only on his partner.

He watched Ziva comb her fingers through her hair and start to split it into sections. Before he even realized he was moving, Tony found himself behind Ziva's chair, his fingers sliding in to take the place of hers. Startled, Ziva dropped her hands and didn't move. Tony's action surprised her so much she couldn't even protest. She simply sat there as he carefully wove her wavy hair into a braid.

When he got to the bottom and ran out of hair to work with, Tony tugged gently and Ziva handed over her hair tie. Then he smiled, squeezed her shoulder gently, and retreated to his desk. It was a stolen moment from their two weeks together, and both partners stayed silent, unwilling to break either moment or memory.

A couple minutes later Ziva left for her appointment and Tony watched her go, the woman who still carried all his hopes and dreams in her dark brown eyes and beautiful smile. He wanted to see more of that smile. He wanted to be the one who made her smile, and he would be. After all, it was part of his job description as her friend.

From her place around the corner Abby watched in mild shock. She'd come back up to ask if Tony and Ziva wanted to join her and Timmy in the lab, at least until Gibbs came back and found something for them to do. But then she'd seen Tony move towards Ziva's desk and she'd stayed out of sight, interested to see how they acted when others weren't around. It wasn't what she expected.

Hurrying back to the elevator, Abby impatiently waited to arrive back downstairs, intent on reporting her news to McGee. But suddenly what she'd seen seemed so personal and private that she was afraid talking about it would ruin how special it had looked. So instead she strode back into the lab, crossed her arms, and focused her gaze on her boyfriend.

"Do you know how to braid, McGee?"

McGee's eyes rose. "What?"

Abby rolled his eyes. "Can you braid hair, like, girl's hair?" She tossed her pigtails and waited for an answer.

Frowning, he nodded slowly. "Yes."

Now it was Abby's turn to look surprised. "Why?"

Far be it for Tim to try to understand what was going through Abby's head. It was easier to simply answer the question and hope for an explanation later. He shrugged one shoulder. "There's twelve years difference between Sarah and I. Mom taught me everything - how to braid and do ponytails and anything else my little sister took a fancy to. Our parents were busy getting ready for work in the mornings before school, so doing Sarah's hair was my job up until she was seven and I left for college."

"Oh." Abby didn't know what to say. It seemed like today was going to be full of the unexpected. "Okay."

McGee smiled and rested his hands on her shoulders as she stood in front of her computer. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

She stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. "No," she said at last, "I don't think so."

Chuckling, Tim shook his head and rubbed his hand down her arm. "Okay. Gotta get back to work now."

Abby spun around to stop him before he left. "Timmy, when are we going on our date?"

Tim smiled. "Tomorrow night?" Abby's eyes widened and he tried not to be too pleased that tomorrow was too far away for her liking. "Tonight?"

"Yes," she grinned. "What time?"

"Seven?" he asked.

"Are you going to pick me up?"

Tim bit his lip. "Abby, I'm kind of living at your place right now. Unless you want me to go back to my apartment ton-" He was saved from finishing the thought when Abby shook her head.

"No!" she said forcefully, then cleared her throat and repeated it softer. "No. Why don't you just..." Abby paused to think of another option.

"How about I go out into the hall and knock on the door at seven?" McGee suggested.

A smile claimed Abby's lips and she nodded. "Yeah, that'll work. Thanks Timmy."

He held out his arms for his Abby hug before going back upstairs. She stepped close and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for coming when I needed you Tim."

McGee knew she was referring to her rather frantic, middle of the night phone call after Ziva's first nightmare. Or perhaps she meant the night she'd called, much more subdued, to ask if he would come and stay the night again. Either way, he'd been so happy that she'd chosen him.

"Oh Abs," he choked out, cradling her against him, "don't you know? I've never wanted to be anywhere else."

**NCIS**

Today was Ziva's fourth therapy session and out of necessity, when they were nearing the end of their time together, Dr. Devon was forced to give her patient an ultimatum. "Tell me about your nightmares," she said, switching topics. Fear flashed in the other woman's eyes so quickly that Devon wondered if she'd really seen it. A swift shake of her head refused the question and Devon sighed.

"Tell me about the nightmares or tell me about Somalia. That's your choice." When the Israeli remained silent, Dr. Andrews leaned forward. "Come on Ziva, you have to pick one. We're running out of time and Somalia is the reason you're here. We've talked about everything else, there's nothing left. I need you to tell me what happened.

Ziva stared at her doctor for a full minute before her posture sagged. Three nights of broken, barely there sleep and frantic morning workouts to purge the lingering shadows finally caught up to her. She rubbed two fingers across her forehead and her eyes fell to the carpet. Finally she shrugged tiredly, giving up. She didn't have the strength or will to fight the sharing any more.

"The nightmares or Somalia...they are one in the same," she began slowly. "In my dreams I always see what they did to me, or what they could have done. I see my family here, my team and best friends, die because of me, because of what I knew but would not tell that monster."

Ziva looked at the shrink with those dead, lifeless eyes from the desert and Devon could see the change. "You do not really know how much pain the human body can go through without giving up, until you have lived through something you never meant to survive."

Compassion filled Devon's gaze as she read into Ziva's words all the suffering and scars and haunted images - far more than Ziva would willingly share. "Tell me," she requested softly, and Ziva took a deep breath as she prepared to revisit Somalia again, for the first time on purpose.

**NCIS**

Ziva left the psychiatrist's office, broken. No walls left to hide her heart, no masks to shield her emotions, no defenses that would keep her safe, not this time. She stumbled to the stairwell door and dragged herself up three flights before she collapsed onto the cold steps, unwilling tears falling down her cheeks.

Pulling her knees up, Ziva covered her face with her hands and cried. For her soul that felt violated by the telling and reliving everything again, a soul still filled with the darkness of what she'd allowed herself to become. For her body beaten and broken over and over, now bearing so many scars that would never fade away.

Ziva cried for her spirit that was too weary to get up and try again. For her heart - fragile and vulnerable, but free finally of the death she'd always carried with her, since her first assignment and first kill at sixteen. And for herself, Ziva, because she didn't know who that was any more. For the first time since she was a child, since Tali died, Ziva let go and let herself cry.

**NCIS**

Back in the bullpen Tony was watching the clock closely. He checked his watch just to be sure of the time and frowned. Ziva's session should be over by now. Usually she came right back to the bullpen. As the minutes ticked by Tony grew more and more impatient until he finally caught Gibbs' eyes and glanced at Ziva's desk.

"Boss I...need some fresh air," he declared, wincing as he heard how lame the words sounded.

Gibbs followed his gaze and Tony could see their boss didn't like that Ziva was late any more than he did. He was surprised when Gibbs nodded once, but Tony didn't question it, he just headed for the stairwell door. If the session had really drained her, Ziva might've taken the stairs so she had a chance to build her defenses back up before she saw them again.

Tony jogged down two flights quickly before stopping short of the third when he saw Ziva sitting crumpled in the middle, crying as if her heart was breaking. Clenching his jaw, Tony made a mental note to tell her therapist in no uncertain terms where she could go and how to get there. But Ziva didn't need his anger right now, she just desperately needed someone who cared, a friend. Luckily, he fit both categories.

"Oh Ziva," Tony said softly, sinking down beside her and pulling her tenderly into his arms like it was after a nightmare that had terrified her. "Shh, it's okay."

He brushed his hand down her hair and back, over and over, surprised and yet grateful that Ziva allowed the contact. Tony held his partner close and rocked her gently when she leaned into the embrace. This was the comfort she'd craved and needed so much right now. This was what she'd been missing those nights alone, the security of Tony's arms around her, of knowing he would keep her safe no matter what.

Ziva clung to Tony, drinking in everything he was offering her. It was a long time before she finally let go and pulled away. Tony didn't say anything, he just looked at her with eyes that loved her when they should not, and used his thumbs to wipe away her tears.

"So I was thinking," he said quietly, a smile spreading slowly across his face, "movie night tonight?"

Ziva blinked and opened her mouth to refuse his company as she had been doing, before she realized there was nothing else she'd rather do. She nodded. "I would like that. Thank you Tony."

He didn't know if she was talking about the invitation or the hug, so Tony just helped her up and held her hand lightly as they climbed the rest of the stairs to their floor. "Anytime," he whispered, meaning it.

Tony shielded her from the eyes of others and walked her to the bathroom so she could get cleaned up and remove the traces of tears she thought were a weakness. He saw them as her greatest strength, letting herself feel again. "Take a few deep breaths Zi, and count to a hundred before you come back," he advised. Then he squeezed her hand. "No one can be strong all the time Ninja. It's okay to be human."

Ziva watched him go and retreated into the empty restroom to splash water on her face and rid her expression of any lingering emotion. She counted to one hundred in Hebrew before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Tony was back at his desk when Ziva returned and sat across from him to gather her things.

She looked up and saw him watching so she smiled briefly, then finished what she was doing. Tony returned her expression with a grin and decided he could do this, he could be Ziva's friend. If that's what it took to be close to her, he would do anything.


	21. Chapter 21

By the time she arrived back at the Navy Lodge Ziva felt better, but she still changed into workout clothes for the second time that day and went for another run around the city block to purge any lingering emotion. When she was running, the wind in her hair and the intense beat of music in her ears (her iPod from Abby had been in her desk at work when her apartment exploded, and Gibbs had returned everything the week before), Ziva didn't have time to think about Somalia, or the confusing feelings that attacked her when Tony was around. All she could do was focus on her breathing and the rhythm her feet pounded out on the sidewalk.

When she returned to her room, sweaty and out of breath, Ziva smiled, because for a moment the stress and burdens she carried were lifted and she could breathe again. Stretching deeply and relaxing her muscles into the old familiar motions from her ballet days, Ziva let go of everything - the despair she'd given into after her time with Dr. Andrews, the embarrassment that flooded her after breaking down in front of Tony, and for how much she wanted him to hold her, the dark, lonely moment when she wondered if life, if she, would ever be normal again. Ziva shook it all off and went to take a long hot shower, something that still felt like such a luxury after months in the desert. It was good to be back.

Afterwards, Ziva took time to brush and blow dry her hair, her mind going back to her time with Tony in the stairwell. _He was just trying to be a good friend, that is all_, she argued with herself, trying to both reassure and calm her racing heart, as well as crush any hope that tried to convince her they could be more. But no matter what she though, Ziva recognized that all her excuses were just a lie. She could not handle anything else right now, and deep down she had a feeling Tony knew that too. And just with any kind of doubt, it stuck in the back of her mind, wondering what Tony would do if she ever gave them permission to be something more than just friends. He was only waiting on her.

Finished with her hair, Ziva forcefully shoved the unsettling thoughts away and went down to the cafeteria. She got salad for a late lunch and ate it at a picnic table outside. It was another way of asserting her independence, proving to herself and anyone watching that she wasn't chained to that room.

It was mid-afternoon before Ziva was ready to try looking at apartments again. Armed with the classifieds and a red pen, she began her usual routine of circling anything that sounded even close to what she wanted, and where she wanted. Then she started making calls. She managed to book three appointments spread out over the next few hours. The last thing she did was purchase a strip of bus tickets and find the right bus to take her to her starting destination.

The first apartment Ziva looked at was "too" everything. Too expensive, too large, too far away from NCIS. Feeling a bit discouraged because she'd seen so many wrong places this week, Ziva dropped into the first empty seat on the next bus and headed for apartment number two. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever find a place that was right for her, but until then, the search had to continue. And after all, it had barely been a week.

Putting on a smile. Ziva greeted the superintendent of the second building and quickly surveyed the outside. Trees surrounded it and the minimalist landscaping worked with the structure, rather than against it. It was plain but nice, even comfortable looking. Hope began to bloom in Ziva once more.

The apartment she was looking at was on the second floor, #218. When the man unlocked the door, Ziva took one look around and knew this was the one. It was small, the price quoted one she could afford, and the open concept design - with the bathroom and bedrooms as the only closed in rooms - gave her the sense of safety she desired. The location was the best part, ten minutes from work and only six minutes from Tony. Not that Ziva would admit to herself that being near Tony had been a factor in her apartment selection, but it was the truth all the same.

_It is just a coincidence_, she reassured herself, until Gibbs' voice growled in her head that there was no such thing as coincidences, and if there were, they still didn't believe in them. Ziva frowned and blocked out the words.

"Well?" Mr. Johns asked.

"It is perfect," Ziva said, turning in a circle slowly before facing him gain. "I am almost afraid to ask - when might it be available?"

Mr. Johns chuckled and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Well, you've come at the right time young lady. It's available now, today if you can pay. The former tenant moved out more than a week ago and the owner needs the rent. You'll have to fill out an application, but that's just a formality, so we have everything on paper. It's yours if you want it. What do you say?"

"Yes please," Ziva smiled. "I can move in tomorrow."

"Done," Mr. Johns agreed, liking something about this young woman. He shook her hand and gestured to the hall. "If you'll come with me to the office, we'll get the paperwork sorted out and the lease signed and I'll give you the keys. You'll pay a pro-rated amount for moving in partway through the month, and you can pay the last month's rent when you come tomorrow. How's that sound?"

"It sounds like I have an apartment."

"Alright then," the man nodded. "Let's go take care of the details."

**NCIS**

Ziva left Harmon House, the name of her new building, in the happiest mood she could remember recently. She was elated to have found an apartment so quickly, and glad to be moving out of the Navy Lodge. It was impersonal and inadequate and she would not miss it.

She passed an ice cream stand on the way to the bus stop, and reached for the change in her pocket. Good news deserved a celebration, yes? Ziva walked away with a strawberry cone in her hand and a smile on her face. For the first time since Somalia, she felt...free. It was wonderful.

A short bus ride later Ziva was back in her Navy Lodge room and she took time to meticulously clean it, removing all signs that anyone had ever been in the room. Then she used another bus ticket and sat quietly for the ride to a house she hadn't been to in almost a month, since the day she left Abby's apartment and dared to ask Gibbs for his blessing to return to the team.

After a slow walk down the block, Ziva entered through the unlocked door and smiled. It was good to know some things never changed. Quietly she made her way down to the basement and sat on the stool, remembering another time she was here alone, on the run and desperate for the number of the one man she knew would be able to save her.

How long she spent lost in memories before she heard his footsteps on the stairs Ziva didn't know, but immediately she stood, hands clasped behind her back, and waited. Gibbs didn't notice her until he was halfway across the basement. He stopped short and looked at her, one eyebrow lifted.

"Never know if it's good news or bad when you're in my basement Ziva," he said gruffly, his expression looking for an explanation.

Ziva put on a bright smile and folded her hands in front of her, an unconscious gesture that meant she was not a threat. "It is good news tonight," she informed him. "I found an apartment this afternoon. It is perfect, just what I was looking for, and close to NCIS. I can move in tomorrow." Holding up the keys, she jingled them a little. "I wanted you to know first."

A rare smile found Gibbs' mouth and his eyes softened. "Good job."

Those two words meant more to Ziva than a million congratulations combined. Then he opened his arms and Ziva hesitated only a moment before accepting the invitation and stepping close for a hug. Even from the first moment she'd arrived home and Gibbs had gotten her out of the first flashback, she had trusted him and felt safe with him. This man was her father, better in every way than the man whose DNA she shared.

Gibbs held Ziva carefully, still so glad every time he saw her standing in front of him, alive and slowly healing from that long summer. Finally she stood back and he looked into her eyes for a long time, until she shifted uncomfortably, not liking his scrutiny. He sighed and crossed his arms.

"How are the psyche evals going?" Gibbs asked. It was telling when Ziva's gaze dropped and her shoulders sagged. There was a moment when he thought she might share details, but then she just shrugged.

"I will be glad to have them over with," Ziva admitted. "I do not like..." she frowned. "Why do they have to ask so many questions? Why do they have to know everything?" Frustration coloured her expression and Ziva pressed her lips together tightly, as if afraid she had already given too much away.

Gibbs pointed to the stool and she sat reluctantly, while he moved a sawhorse over for himself. "It's never easy to talk about the stuff that gives you nightmares," he noted from experience, and a flash of fear flickered in her eyes before she could hide it. Gibbs narrowed his gaze. "How bad are they?"

She glanced around the room, refusing eye contact. "They are just dreams," Ziva said stubbornly. "They are not real." Convincing Gibbs that her nightmares were not something to worry about was even harder than convincing Tony and herself. "I am relieved that tomorrow is the last session, I want to go back to work."

He let her change the subject, knowing she'd talk if and when she was ready, but accepted that it might not be him Ziva chose to tell. "It will be good to have you back on the team Ziver." He barked a laugh. "I need you around to keep the boys in line."

She smiled slightly, not ready to get her hopes up yet. "If Vance approves," she reminded him.

Gibbs touched her cheek gently and she didn't shy away. "We went to the desert to get you back. Think we're going to let one federal agency director mess that up?"

Though she knew there was nothing Gibbs could do about it if Vance rejected her application, it was still nice to know he was willing to fight for her. Before Ziva could reply, her phone rang and she gave Gibbs an apologetic look before glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello Tony."

"Hey Ziva." She could hear the smile in his voice. "We still on for tonight?"

Ziva nodded once. "Yes."

"Great," the word almost sounded like a sigh of relief and she realized he was afraid she would cancel on him. "What do you want on your half of the pizza?"

"Pepperoni, extra cheese, and spinach," she rattled the list off automatically. It was what she always got on movie nights, though Ziva had almost forgotten until that moment, it had been so long since the last real one, when they weren't staying in the same apartment.

Tony laughed, loving that he'd found another thing that hadn't changed. "I'll call it in. Need a ride?"

"No thank you. I will see you in twenty minutes."

"Okay, bye Zi."

"Goodbye."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow. "DiNozzo?"

Ziva shrugged. "Movie night," she said, as if that explained everything.

He nodded approvingly and reached for his keys. "Come on," Gibbs jerked his head towards the stairs, "I'll give you a lift."

Ziva shook her head. "No need Gibbs. I will just walk."

Gibbs didn't bother pointing out that it was almost a fifteen minute drive to her partner's place. He settled for a mild glare instead. "Wasn't a question."

Rolling her eyes, Ziva gave up and slipped past him up the stairs. The ride over to Tony's was a little awkward and she didn't know what to say. But then, Gibbs never was one for much conversation in the car. When he pulled into the parking lot of Tony's building, Ziva murmured a thank you and reached for the door handle, but Gibbs' hand on her arm stopped her.

His eyes were gently as he offered her some advice. "Let him be your friend Ziva. He needs it as much as you do."

Ziva stared at Gibbs for a long moment before nodding slowly. There was an understanding between her and her boss, ever since Ari, that did not require a lot of words. He cared, he was trying to help, and he was rarely wrong. Ziva appreciated what he was doing. Getting out, she watched Gibbs drive away and then walked in the front door of the familiar building and pressed the button for apartment #504.


	22. Chapter 22

Abby had spent nearly an hour in her room getting ready for her and McGee's second first date. She'd chosen her outfit carefully and diligently worked on all aspects of her appearance, wanting everything to be perfect. At exactly 6:58 pm, she heard a knock on the door and smiled. Tim was always early, even when he wasn't living at her apartment.

She crossed the floor quickly and opened to door to find McGee standing outside, dressed in a nice black suit and holding a single rose. His eyebrows lifted as he stared at her in appreciation. "Wow." Abby spun and her black skirt swirled out around her. Tim stepped in the door and kissed her cheek, handing her the red flower. "You look beautiful," he whispered, fingering a curl. "You left your hair down."

Her heart beat faster at the emotion in his eyes. "Just for you Tim," she said softly.

She could tell he enjoyed that fact. "Ready?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Abby grabbed her wrap, but let him lock the door. "Ready," she grinned.

Tim led her down to his car and they held hands all the way to the restaurant. Seeing the sign, Abby turned to her boyfriend. "This place is really swanky McGee," she commented as he helped her out. "How did you get reservations on such short notice?"

He shrugged and glanced away. "Might've gotten a mutual friend to make a call."

"What mutual friend?" Abby demanded. No one on the team had that much clout.

Tim coloured. "A Mr. Gemcity."

She smiled slyly. McGee never liked advertising the fact that he'd gained a small amount of fame from his books about the team, or that he had the money to go with it, or that his pseudonym made things happen sometimes. The fact that he had used it for her - for them - just made it all the more endearing.

"Well, I'll have to tell him 'thank you' sometime."

They climbed the stairs slowly and nodded at the doorman. "You could tell me," McGee offered, "and I'll make sure he gets the message."

Abby rested her hand on his chest and leaned up to press a kiss to Tim's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

Grinning, Tim guided Abby inside with a hand on the small of her back. "Y'know, I might have to keep that all to myself."

She squeezed his fingers lightly. "As you wish."

Her voice danced across his heart, causing shivers to run up and down his spine. McGee swallowed hard. He hadn't expected her to say it first.

**NCIS**

Tony let Ziva in without even asking who it was and opened the door before she had a chance to knock. They stood looking at each other for a minute before Tony turned towards the kitchen. "Do you want anything to drink Ziva?" he asked quickly.

She watched him quietly, then slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag on the floor. "I know where the glasses are Tony. I lived here for two weeks, remember?"

His eyes were dark when he finally met her gaze. "Kinda hard to forget," Tony admitted, but the pizza came just then and saved them from an awkward moment.

Ziva grabbed plates while Tony arranged their food on the coffee table and he smiled, glad she still felt at home in his apartment. For just a moment, it felt like those two weeks had never ended. When they were both settled on the couch, Tony pressed play and Ziva's eyebrows rose at the sight of an animated llama sitting dejectedly on a small island of ground as rain poured down.

"Have you gone Disney on me, Tony?" she asked unbelievingly. They hadn't watched anything animated since after her first nightmare at his place.

Tony chuckled. "It's _The Emperor's New Groove_, Ziva. The movie has some great moments. Trust me, you'll love it."

_Trust me. _Though he'd said it flippantly, the words echoed over and over in her head. In two weeks she'd learned to trust him with touch, with nearness, with comfort, with her nightmares and her scars. The only thing he didn't know was her shame. And she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to tell him that, no matter how close their friendship or how deep their trust.

Leaning back against the cushions, Ziva tried to relax. Tony's familiar presence beside her helped with that and she found that he was right, she did enjoy the movie. They worked through their pizza and halfway through paused to get popcorn and juice. It was a comfortable routine, there was no pressure or awkwardness and for that Ziva was glad.

At the end of the night Tony tapped his fingers on the back of her hand and Ziva could read his expression like a book. He wanted to ask her to stay. Part of her wished she was free to say yes, to let Tony be everything for her. But the practical part reminded her that it was not fair to expect any more from him, no matter how much he was willing to give. He was her best friend, that would have to do.

"Zi," he started, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

"I will be fine Tony," she tried to reassure him. It startled her when his hand came up to her face and she held perfectly still as he lightly traced the dark circles under her eyes.

"Will you?" Tony asked, and she knew he was worried about her. The care in his voice was too much, too close, and Ziva quickly changed the subject. She put her hand on his arm, more to keep him from touching her again than for any other reason. Or at least, that's what she told herself as his warmth and nearness seeped into her like a forgotten memory. Or a not so forgotten one. She shook off the thoughts and finally found her words again.

"I got an apartment today," Ziva told him.

Tony smiled. "That's great. I'm glad. I figured you might be getting a little discouraged."

She shrugged. "It was...inevitable, yes?"

He wished he could tell her what else was inevitable, even if she hadn't believed in the word last time they'd talked about it. "Where is it?"

Ziva tilted her head to the side. "Do you know Harmon House?"

Tony shook his head. "No. You'll have to show me sometime."

She nodded, then stood to leave. He followed her closely, and when she turned to say goodbye it was clear he wanted to hug her. After this morning though, Ziva couldn't take him being so close again, she just might give in if he asked now. So instead she rested her palm in the center of his chest.

"Thank you for movie night Tony," Ziva said softly.

Tony let out a breath that was mostly disappointment. He had to clear his throat before his voice would work. "Yeah, it was nice. Like old times. We'll have to do it again sometime."

Ziva looked into his eyes briefly. "I would like that." Then she was gone and it was cold and lonely in his apartment again.

Tony sighed. Being friends was going to be harder than he thought.

**NCIS**

A loud noise, a car backfiring, woke Ziva from the peaceful sleep she was having as memories of a good day surrounded her. Once she recognized the noise and lay back down, releasing her hold on the gun under her pillow, Ziva checked the clock and realized it was two hours since she went to bed and there had been no nightmares.

A thought struck her and she twisted her wrist, hitting the indiglo on her watch and setting the timer for two hours, just as an experiment. She closed her eyes and remembered Gibbs' hug and the care in Tony's eyes and it wasn't long before she was drifting off again.

An incessant beeping disturbed her again around 2:30 am, and Ziva could not recall even having felt the threat of a nightmare this time. Mulling it over in her head, Ziva carefully programmed her watch alarm for every two hours. Even if it meant interrupting her sleep cycle all night, Ziva knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'd do almost anything not to dream again.

**NCIS**

When her watch alarm went off again at 4:30 am, Ziva groaned, deciding she might as well get up now rather than sleep for another half hour. A night of broken sleep and strange dreams left her without the energy she needed to face another day, but Ziva pushed through.

She made herself some tea and washed the mug in the bathroom sink. After dressing, she stripped her used linens off the bed and left them in a pile on the mattress. Gathering her backpack and duffel, Ziva took one last look around and knew she could leave. She was not sorry to see the last of the small room.

The bus dropped her off outside NCIS twenty minutes later and Ziva headed straight for the gym. Her run was shorter today because of her night and she was at her desk by 0630, staring at the blank email she'd opened and watching the cursor blink. It was a long time before she gathered her strength and the ammunition of words she needed to see this through. Finally her fingers started to move on the keys.

_Dear Father,_ she looked at the words, holding her breath as a small stab of pain knifed through her heart. She wondered why it still hurt. Closing her eyes for a moment, Ziva breathed deeply and continued.

_This is the last time I will call you that. I see now that at some point I stopped being your daughter and became only your soldier, your weapon. The sharp end of the spear, as you so often put it. I am tired of being an object. I want now to be a person, part of a family. That is what NCIS offers - a chance to just be me, whoever I may find that is._

_Please consider this my official resignation from Mossad. Do not contact me again Eli, I will not be coming back._

_Sincerely,_

_Ziva David_

Before she changed her mind, Ziva hit 'enter' and sent the email flying through cyberspace where it would reach her father as he was enjoying his afternoon tea. A few minutes later the elevator dinged and Gibbs came striding in. He wasn't surprised to see Ziva there, but his eyes narrowed at the fatigue etched on her face. For a moment Ziva was afraid Gibbs would ask, but he didn't and she sighed in relief.

Tim and Tony came in together closer to 0730, and paperwork ensued. Gibbs dropped several sheets on her desk and sent her to the copy room, left her with a report for Ducky, asked her to check on Abby's progress with the cold case evidence she'd dug up out of sheer boredom.

He kept her busy right up until Ziva had to leave for her final psychological evaluation, set for 9 am sharp. Tony gave her a thumbs up as she headed for the elevator and she smiled faintly while dread built in her heart. This was her last chance.

**NCIS**

The session went better than Ziva expected. In the last few minutes Dr. Andrews set aside her clipboard and pen and looked into her patient's eyes. "Ziva," she asked, "after everything you've been through in the last few months, now that you're home, what is the one thing you want the most?"

For once Ziva actually thought carefully about the question before answering, and when she did, she was very honest. She sighed. "I am tired of being betrayed and lied to and used. I want to belong here again. I want to be loved when there are no strings attached. I guess I just want something permanent." _Thank goodness all of what I tell her is confidential_, Ziva thought afterwards,_ I am sure Abby would have something to say about my 'wants'_.

The therapist took in her words and nodded slightly. Taking a breath, Ziva met the woman's gaze again, Vance's words from last week still ringing in her ears. "Do you think I am damaged goods Devon?"

As soon as she said that, Ziva realized she had learned to trust her psychiatrist, whether she'd wanted to initially or not. She'd walked into the office prepared to hate the person putting her through this, and Ziva had found instead a friend who tried very hard to understand and to help.

Dr. Andrews stared at Ziva. "Yes," she said simply, watching as the Israeli's face fell. She leaned forward and put her hand over Ziva's, feeling how she stiffened slightly. "But not beyond repair." Devon smiled at the woman in front of her. "I'd like you to come see me again Ziva. Here's my card."

She put the simple, green piece of stiff paper on Ziva's knee. "Don't worry," Devon continued, reading the apprehension in Ziva's face, "I'm not making it mandatory, nothing official. But I do think it would be good for you to talk to someone a little more. Just give it some thought, okay?"

Without another choice, Ziva nodded and stood. "Thank you Devon," she said cautiously, before turning and walking out. Her next step was to report to the Director and she waited in the outer office three minutes later while his secretary called to announce her arrival.

"You may go in now Ms. David," the lady at the desk informed her, and Ziva bit back a grimace. She hated sounding civilian.

Ziva approached the Director's desk and stood as a soldier at rest, a position she would probably never be without no matter how many years she lived in America.

"At ease," Leon said dryly.

She ignored him. "I am finished with my psychological evaluations."

He chewed on his toothpick and nodded. "Good. I'll review Dr. Andrew's notes and findings and then we'll talk." Vance scribbled a note on his desk calendar. "Why don't you come back Monday at eleven am? I should know by then what to do with you."

Giving a single nod, Ziva turned on her heel and left, heading for the bullpen. She kept reminding herself that she did not have to like the man, she just had to follow orders, like always. She was joining NCIS so she could return to Gibbs' team and be with her family, not because she had any love lost for Leon Vance.

Once at her desk, Ziva bent to pick up her backpack and duffel bag from behind her desk and Gibbs was in her space when she stood up. It was clear Ziva had no reason to go back to the Navy Lodge, as everything she owned in the world she currently carried in her hands.

"What time are you moving in?" Gibbs asked, and Ziva glanced down at her things, no doubt thinking the answer should be obvious.

"I am going over now."

Gibbs glanced around the bullpen. McGee was down helping Abby with the cold case evidence because she'd called and practically begged for a distraction. Tony was trying very hard not to appear to be eavesdropping, even if he was listening to every word.

"Stick around your place today," he suggested. "We don't have a case. The team will be over to help after lunch."

Ziva was puzzled. "But I have nothing to move."

He stared at her significantly. "I'm sure you'll want to clean the apartment first, and you can't keep Abby away, she'll be too excited."

She shrugged, agreeing because it was Gibbs and he'd do it anyways. "See you later then."

Ziva glanced back at Tony and went downstairs to wait for the bus. Tony's eyes followed her every step until the elevator doors closed. She looked so strong but he could see through the cracks. New apartment or not, Ziva was still not okay.


	23. Chapter 23

Two hours later Ziva was sitting outside her building with her back against a tree, reading the only book she owned. The sun was shining, the grass was soft, and it was still a relatively nice temperature for the middle of October. A slight breeze teased her hair and Ziva smiled, looking up from the page. For the first time all week, she felt content.

All of a sudden several cars pulled into the parking lot at the side of the building. Ziva scrunched up her face in confusion when Gibbs got out of a truck he'd obviously borrowed from somewhere. The cars were piled full of things and a trailer was hooked to the back of the truck.

She stood and stared as the team slowly gathered around their boss. "What is this?" she asked.

"What else my dear?" Ducky grinned. "We are here to help you move in."

Before Ziva had a chance to protest, Abby came over armed with cleaning supplies and Jimmy. She pointed to the smiling young man. "He's here to help."

"At your service Ziva," Jimmy offered. "Put me to work."

McGee followed and handed Jimmy a vacuum cleaner, then Abby stepped back so Ziva could lead the way to her apartment. Tony trailed after them, propping open doors with cinder blocks and taking note of how to get to her place. Then he disappeared again without a word and Ziva looked after him curiously.

"Okay," Abby took a look around at the empty rooms, "where do you want to start?" Ziva shrugged, still not exactly sure what was going on here, so Abby took charge. "Jimmy, you're on vacuuming duty. I want every corner, along every wall, and each square inch of this place clean enough to roll around on the floor. Got it?"

Jimmy saluted. "I'll do it as carefully as if it was my mom's house," he promised, and Abby nodded, convinced that he would do a good job.

Turning back to Ziva, Abby pointed. "Bathroom first," she decided.

Although it was a rather small room, Ziva didn't bother saying anything, the look on Abby's face was determined. While Jimmy started with what would be the livingroom, Abby climbed in the bathtub barefoot and started scrubbing it from top to bottom. "You never know who might've used it last," she explained to Ziva, cringing a little. Ziva picked through the cleaning supplies and went to work with the toilet brush and bathroom cleanser.

Then Abby wiped down the walls with a damp cloth and Ziva got the cupboard under the sink, plus the counter and the sink. They managed to work around each other fairly well without bumping elbows or tripping over each other. Last, Abby made quick work of the laminate flooring and then shooed Ziva to the kitchen, blocking her view of what the guys were doing.

When Jimmy was done with the vacuuming, Abby put him to work on the fridge with a sponge and bucket of soapy water. Abby tackled the cupboards while Ziva scoured the sink and counter, then together they took apart the coil stove burners and scrubbed the oven until it shone. The window was next, before Abby got out her mop again to deal with the kitchen floor.

As soon as Abby was satisfied, all three moved into Ziva's room and Abby made sure to shut the door. Hearing all the bumping and banging going on in the other rooms, Ziva wasn't even sure she wanted to know. Once shut in, walls and baseboards were dusted, and they polished the window and full length mirror on the back of the door until they gleamed.

Finally Abby ushered Ziva out the door, practically shoving her along so that all she caught a glimpse of was people coming and going and moving things around. Then she was banned from her own apartment. Discretely Abby signaled Jimmy to do baseboards and walls in the livingroom, and then help with whatever else was needed.

Once outside, Abby insisted she was going to treat Ziva to an ice cream cone at the little shop down the street. Shrugging, because it was no use arguing with her strong willed friend or mentioning that she just had ice cream yesterday, Ziva followed Abby, casting a glance back over her shoulder at the activity in the parking lot.

At the ice cream place, Abby got Tiger Tail for the black licorice parts, which shouldn't've surprised Ziva. The Israeli stayed simple with chocolate peanut butter. They sat at the small table outside and Abby kept up a running commentary until her phone beeped close to forty-five minutes later saying she had a text message. She smiled when she read it and flipped the red phone closed again.

"Time to go back!" she announced, and Ziva fell into step with her, anxious to see what had been going on.

They climbed the stairs to Ziva's floor instead of taking the elevator, and Ziva noted that the cinder blocks had all been removed. When they arrived, Abby swung open the door and joined the team who were standing in the middle of the livingroom. "Ziva," she grinned, "welcome to your apartment."

Stunned, Ziva barely moved at all, she just took it all in. What had once been barren, empty rooms, was now something that looked surprisingly like a home. Heading towards the bathroom, Ziva peeked her head in while the others trailed after her. Her shower now sported a yellow curtain and the floor a purple bathmat. Before she could ask, McGee explained.

"They're leftover from when Sarah lived with me before she started University. She said she couldn't shower in a bathroom that was too 'guy'." He shrugged. "I don't need them any more."

Curious now, Ziva took a quick look in the cupboards and medicine cabinet, finding them stocked with aspirin, bandaids, hairspray, make-up remover, q-tips, cotton balls, a curling iron and straightener, dark blue towels she recognized from using at Tony's apartment during her two weeks stay, as well as a few basic cleaning supplies. She raised an eyebrow and Abby supplied the information.

"It seems that we all had a bunch of extra stuff we weren't using."

The kitchen was next on the tour. Dishsoap and a scrub pad sat on the sink, salt and pepper shakers on the top of the stove, and an old microwave found a home on the fridge. The bottom cupboards and stove drawer were filled with a full set of pots, pans and baking trays, while the top cupboards held a matching dish set and glasses. Silverware and cooking utensils lay in both drawers. They hadn't missed much. Ziva wasn't sure what to say.

Gibbs shoved his hands in his pockets. "Found that microwave in the basement. Still works."

Ducky smiled. "Mother went through a phase last year and insisted everything in our kitchen was rubbish and needed to be replaced." He tapped one of the pots and chuckled. "They're perfectly good, as are the dishes, and I couldn't bring myself to throw them out. But I learned a long time ago not to argue with Mother. I'm so glad they'll be put to good use here." It was common knowledge that Ziva loved to cook and was very good at it too.

Ziva was starting to feel overwhelmed, but because they were all so excited, she let them show her the rest of the apartment. A bookshelf, handmade and lightly stained by the look of it, sat outside her room. Gibbs must've been the craftsman. Vines and roses trailed down both sides and across the top. It was beautiful. Kneeling down, she took a look at what the shelves held.

Someone, probably Tony, had managed to get her copy of Les Mis and make it the first thing on the bookshelf. But she was surprised to see that her collection had suddenly grown, and Ziva realized she could pick out the donor just by the kind of book they'd given.

Tucked in beside her favourite was Charles Dicken's Moby Dick, A Tale of Two Cities and Emma, likely Ducky's classics. A boxed set of The Lord of the Rings series, including The Hobbit, probably belonged to the man who watched movies based on books. Deep Six and Rock Hollow in hardcover from a Mr. Gemcity - and yes, signed - made her smile.

Abby's influence could be seen in the book of ghost stories and a copy of Count Dracula. Treasure Island and The Swiss Family Robinson, could have belonged to either Tim or Tony from their little boy adventure days. A Sherlock Holmes anthology undoubtedly came from Ducky. But three books in Hebrew leaning in a corner caught her eye and Ziva's brow wrinkled.

Gibbs pointed to them. "Found those at Jenny's," he said quietly, offering no other explanation. But Ziva knew anything that had belonged to his former partner would not have been parted with lightly. She smiled her thanks.

Inside her bedroom, curtains had been hung and a dark blind was rolled up, just waiting to be used. A lamp and alarm clock sat on a bedside table that had not been there before. Beside those was a bed frame and mattress Ziva hadn't owned, plus an old wardrobe closet and chest of drawers.

Abby gestured to the bed. "It's practically brand new. My parents bought it for me in college, they just couldn't accept that I like my coffin. Or maybe it was because my roommate was kinda freaked out." She shrugged. "Not sure, but you may as well use them since I'm not going to."

She couldn't resist a glance at Tim, thinking of the air mattress they shared at night and wondering if it would ever be his bed, and not just for sleeping. But Abby looked away before he could read those thoughts in her eyes. Their first date had gone very well. They had a lot of fun together and had set another one for the following Friday. It seemed like things were moving faster all of a sudden, and Abby couldn't help but be curious about where they might end up.

"The wardrobe fell prey to one of Mother's purges, it belonged to my Aunt Gloria," Ducky elaborated. "The bedside table and accessories are Mr. Palmer's contribution from his dorm room."

Gibbs eyed the chest. "Spare room was getting too crowded."

Tony rand his hand over the sleeping bag that was unrolled on the bare mattress. "It's just until you can get sheets," he explained.

The livingroom was last and Ziva was glad, she could barely take it all in. The group took turns pointing different items out. "Had an extra couch," Gibbs said shortly, not much for giving a lot of details.

"The chair and coffee table were in storage," Tim smiled. "They may as well be used."

"The TV stand was mine, I needed to upgrade anyways," Tony shrugged. "Someday I'll help you go shopping for something to put on it."

Two small shelving units flanked the stand. "Since you're friends with Tony, I think you'll end up with a collection by default," Abby teased, speaking from experience.

When everything had been seen, claimed, and explained, Abby turned to Ziva. "Why don't you come out for dinner with us?" she exclaimed. "We've all been working hard. I'm sure everyone's hungry." Nods filtered around the room. "What do you say?"

As much as Ziva wanted to decline and just be alone for awhile, the pleading, expectant looks on her friends' faces had her saying yes. "Maybe just for a quick nibble," she gave in gracefully.

"Bite Zi, not nibble," Tony laughed, more lighthearted than she'd seen him all week.

Everyone else filed out of the apartment, but Gibbs stopped Ziva, pointing to the slide lock he'd installed near the top of her door. "Never hurts to take precautions." His eyes searched hers. "I want you to feel safe here. It's home now Ziva."

_Home_. The word soaked through her skin and into her heart. _Home_. But all peace disappeared when she thought of the last place she had called home, and how she had no right to get attached to that feeling. Still, gratitude filled her expression because of Gibbs' thoughtfulness, and she locked up, then joined the rest of the group waiting by the elevator.

On the way out, Tony's hand rested near the small of her back, barely touching, but enough so she knew he was there. Ziva smiled slightly. She'd missed that feeling of closeness, but admitting that was a weakness she could not afford. They walked to a diner two blocks away and everyone except Ziva ordered hamburgers and fries. She was gently mocked for her choice of salad but when the food came, Tony, who was sitting beside her, nudged his plate towards Ziva so she could share his french fries.

She smiled at him but said nothing, occasionally taking a fry and dipping it into the puddle of ketchup he'd poured. The team laughed and chatted and shared memories and talked about planning for the day until finally all the food was gone and they relaxed in the contented, after hard work feeling.

Ziva looked around the table and cleared her throat. "Thank you everyone for your generosity and for helping me move in. It would not be so...nice without the touches from all of you."

Gibbs looked at her with pride in his eyes, knowing it was hard for her to ask for help and even harder for her to accept it. "You're family Ziva. We'll always help."

"We love you," Abby put in. "Nothing was right when you were gone."

The mention of months full of misunderstandings, hurtful words, devastating events and pain endured created a more somber mood, and soon people rose by ones and twos to leave. Tony stalled, slowly piling dishes on the table and saying goodbye to the others. He wanted more time with Ziva.

"Come on," he said finally, "I'll give you a ride home."

Ziva laughed. "Your car is in the parking lot at my apartment," she reminded him. "Go. I will see you later." She smiled when he hesitated and Tony gave her the chin up gesture.

"Yeah, later."

Watching him walk away, Ziva suddenly had to urge to say more. "Tony?" she called and he spun around, his eyes lighting up. She bit her lip. "Thank you."

He grinned. "Anytime." It was becoming his catch phrase for her.

She waited while Gibbs settled up the bill and left a tip. He followed her out and pulled an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to her. Opening it, Ziva found a lot of money and her eyes widened, flickering to her boss. "Gibbs..."

Before she could say anything he held up a hand. "It's not from me Ziva. It's the insurance money from your old apartment."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "Deliberate sabotage negates an insurance claim." She was sure he knew that.

"Yeah, but you didn't know that Mossad was going to blow the place up. I went in and explained everything to your insurance company." He grinned. "Didn't exactly give them the option of saying no. I kept it for you." Gibbs' voice dropped and he touched Ziva's cheek. "I didn't want you to be gone forever either."

Feeling braver than she had in ages, Ziva slid her arms around Gibbs' neck and hugged him tightly. "Toda Abba," she whispered. Standing in his embrace, she knew what it was to be safe, to be loved.

Gibbs stroked Ziva's hair gently, feeling the impact of her words. He was her father now, and he would take that responsibility very seriously. Finally he let her go. "The money should help with your new start." He kissed her forehead and headed for her building. "Take care of yourself Ziver."

As soon as Gibbs was out of sight, Ziva walked to the nearest bus stop and took the twenty minute ride to Wal-Mart, needing to pick up a few things before she went home. She smiled, glad she could say the word again, that it meant something. DC with her team, this was home.

Counting through the bills quickly, Ziva breathed a sigh of relief and a silent 'thank you' to Gibbs again. There was enough in the envelope to ensure she could pay bills for the next few months, or at least until she started getting a regular paycheck again. The rest she could save, and it was nice not to have to panic about where she'd get the money for rent.

Leaning back against the seat, Ziva thought of how her friends had been taking care of her these last several weeks. Ever since her stay at Gibbs' house, she'd been finding money here and there. A couple bills tucked into the pocket of her jeans, change zipped into her hidden windbreaker pocket, money slipped between the pages of her book.

She'd come across bills in her duffel back with her folded shirts, left in the toe of her shoes, a small envelope in her leather bag or under a report. Ziva had never been able to catch anyone at it and was convinced the plot was a group effort. But she was very thankful that they were helping out, because even with nothing she would not have been able to bring herself to ask. She'd always been able to take care of herself, but the team knew when she needed to be taken care of by others and stepped up.

The money had all gone towards expanding her wardrobe, especially with clothes that would cover her healing scars. Everything in her duffel bag, including the bag itself, had been a gift from Gibbs, who refused to hear her protest and insisted. Ziva had a feeling that now Abby would be happy to go shopping with her to add to the basics she'd acquired in the last month and a half.

When the bus dropped her off, Ziva wandered through the store slowly, knowing there was two hours yet before they closed. Finding the right aisle, she took her time choosing a few necessities she still needed. A new pillow and white pillowcase with tiny blue forget-me-nots embroidered along the edge. Then two sheet sets - one lavender and the other a pale green.

Two fuzzy blankets were next - a large cream coloured one for her bed and a smaller, dark red one for the couch. The chocolate comforter she found at the end completed her bedding and Ziva moved on to the grocery section. A few things like milk, cereal, fruit, vegetables and lettuce for salad, and meat would be used in the immediate future. She was thinking of doing a roast tomorrow, and picked up the appropriate spices and seasonings. It would give her leftovers for days to take to work for lunch, and the meat would also be good in salad.

Finding everything she wanted, Ziva checked out, frowning at the total. It was more than she wanted to spend at one time, but it couldn't be helped. She was just blessed not to have to start completely from scratch - her friends had made sure of that. Ziva smiled, realizing how good it felt to be loved again, to be part of this family.

Because of having several bags, she sat at the front of the bus and rode the elevator upstairs where she unlocked the door to her apartment, set everything down, and looked around. She had her own place again. Ziva walked through the rooms, touching everything gently and smiled before going to put her food away.

She made her bed using the lavender sheets first and the pillow and comforter alone. It wasn't cold enough at night yet to need the extra blanket she stored on top of the wardrobe. The sleeping bag from Tony lay on the floor, so Ziva squatted down to roll it up and caught a faint whiff of something.

Bringing the material to her face, Ziva breathed deeply. It was Tony's scent - the same one that had been on the bed while she slept under his blanket for a week and a half, the same scent that permeated the sheets for the nights they'd shared a bed, the same scent that had comforted her when she came out of a nightmare, not sure where she was or who she was with. Ziva rolled the sleeping bag up slowly and tucked it in the bottom of the wardrobe. She might need it later if anyone slept over.

The last thing to do was unpack her backpack and duffel bag, the extent of what she'd owned eight hours ago. Unzipping the bag, Ziva pulled out her shampoo and conditioner and body wash and set them in the shower for the next day. Razor blades and deodorant went on a shelf in the medicine cabinet, while her brush, elastics, hairdryer, toothbrush and toothpaste found a home on the counter.

Her clothes were next, laid in designated drawers depending on whether they were underwear and socks, pants, long sleeved shirts, or workout clothes. Her blouses got hung up on hangers already on the rod. The purple and white checked pyjamas from Gibbs of Shannon's went on her pillow and last, her shoes were placed on a mat by the door that she hadn't noticed before. Finally she was home.

For a long time that night Ziva sat on the couch and enjoyed being in her own space. It was quiet, too quiet almost, and for a fleeting moment Ziva recalled the companionable evenings she'd spent with Tony. Shaking the thought away, she got up for her book and the red blanket and spent half an hour reading before her eyelids got heavy.

It had been a full day. She wondered if her father - if Eli - had even read the email she'd sent or if he'd deleted it on sight. Regardless, it was no longer her problem. Leaving her blanket and book on the couch, Ziva retrieved her weapons and hid all the knives at various locations around the small apartment, slipping the Sig under her pillow and her backup under the couch.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair and double check both locks on the door, Ziva finally changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed. She breathed a sigh that wasn't quite relief when she realized that even with the light on, door open, locks turned and a gun under her pillow, she didn't feel safe. But it didn't matter. She set her watch alarm for two hours and switched off the light. She was home and that was something she would never take for granted again. Still, it was a long time before she closed her eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

It was eleven o'clock in the morning and Tony DiNozzo stood in front of Ziva David's apartment building, arms loaded down with various items. He walked in the front doors and pressed the buzzer for 218. It didn't have her name on it yet, but Tony had memorized the number when they helped her move in the day before.

He'd been up since 7 am, but he'd waited past mid-morning, hoping it had given her enough time to go for a later run like she liked to do on weekends, and shower and eat and whatever else she did. Tony smiled as he thought about how close Ziva's new place was to him. He timed it when he drove home and for a reason he had yet to name, he was very pleased that they were nearer neighbours now.

Anxious about his reception, Tony shifted from foot to foot for the long, agonizing minute it took before the door beeped and he pulled it open. Tony took the elevator up to Ziva's floor with all his stuff in tow. He knocked on her door and when it was yanked open, Tony noted several things all at the same time.

First, Ziva had obviously just woken up. A glance past her into the apartment revealed a dint in the couch from a body, and there was a crumpled, dark red blanket at one end. Her eyes were bloodshot and Tony would've put money on her not sleeping last night. So basically, he woke her up from what was likely an accidental nap. Perfect. He knew all too well how much she hated going back to sleep after a nightmare.

The thought made Tony frown inside but he decided not to say anything because the second thing he noticed was that he kind of liked getting to see Ziva in her pyjamas again, with sleep tousled hair and lowered defenses in her eyes, even if she did answer the door gun in hand. He swallowed.

"Umm...hi."

Ziva stared at her partner. The buzzing noise had woken her from the oblivion of sleep into which nightmares had not yet intruded. She'd been confused to find herself on the couch and then remembered the sound and dragged herself over to the intercom pad on the wall by the door. Because her eyes were barely open, Ziva mistook the 'talk' button for the door release button and once she realized it, retrieved her gun from the floor before answering the knock at her door. But really, who else had she expected?

Now that she was more coherent, it was clear the man in front of her was not a threat, at least to her safety. Perhaps though, he was a threat to her peace of mind. And the greatest of threats to her heart. Shaking away the troubling thoughts, Ziva sighed and tried not to let her voice sound frustrated.

"What are you doing here Tony?"

Having recovered from his initial surprise at catching the ninja unawares, Tony cleared his throat and grinned, offering her a bouquet of daffodils. "It's Saturday," he told her, as if that explained everything. "Seemed like a good day to hang out with my best friend."

Ziva had to smile then. Tony was so sincere, so eager to please, and she could hardly argue with him. It wasn't like she had plans or anything. She accepted the bright yellow flowers and sniffed their subtle fragrance. Then her eyebrows drew together and Tony looked worried.

"What?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I do not have any vases."

"Oh." He was stumped. That part hadn't even been on his mind. Tony never considered what she'd do after he gave her the flowers. "Well..."

"Wait!" Ziva had a sudden flash of inspiration and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Tony to find his own way in. He set his things down and looked for her. She was on the counter, reaching for something on a high shelf.

"I found a juice pitcher up here last night. I think it will work." She jumped down, filled it with water, and placed her flowers inside. "There," Ziva smiled, "perfect."

Turning back to Tony, she looked in surprise at the box he held. "This is your real housewarming present. The flowers just looked pretty." He sat down on the couch and Ziva joined him. Tony lifted the lid with a flourish to reveal stacks of new DVDs. "Ta-da! It's the start of your very own movie collection. I got you one from almost every genre," he told her excitedly, missing the stunned look on Ziva's face. "Except horror. I was thinking we'd skip that for now. But when you're ready, we seriously have to watch _Psycho_. It's a killer." He laughed at his own joke before continuing, paying no attention to Ziva's silence.

"So, we've got _Sahara_ for your Action/Suspense, Paycheck is Action/Intrigue, _50 First Dates_ - Comedy/Romance, and _It Happened One Night_ is a black and white classic. Though I guess it's grey to you." Tony winked, then picked up the next DVD. "In the musical category we have _The Sound of Music_, special edition. With," he winced, "four hours of extras. And of course, it has the distinction of being Ms. Ziva David's favourite movie."

This time she could not help but smile. Her favourite movie. Of course he had thought of everything. A grin lit Tony's eyes when he glanced at her, pleased to see that she seemed to be enjoying her present. "Next is _Pictures of Hollis Woods _- a little known Hallmark movie from the Family/Drama genre. It also has a great message about finding a home and people who love you no matter what you think about yourself."

Unable to help himself, Tony reached over, tucking one of Ziva's messy curls behind her ear before moving on. "_Meet the Robinsons_ is a Disney flick, enough said. _Octopussy_ - because James Bond in a must have in any collection. Life just wouldn't be complete without it." _Like my life isn't complete without you_, he thought, but some things were better left unsaid for now. Today he'd take whatever he could get when it came to his partner.

Reaching into the box, Tony showed her the cover of the movie he held. "_The Little Mermaid _is also a Disney film, but this is one of their old school, hand-drawn classics. _Remember the Titans _and _The Blindside _to educate you on the importance of high school and college football here in the US of A. And also, because they're amazing sports movies."

"Hmm...what else to we have?" He sorted through the remaining cases and held up three. "_The Notebook_,_ A Cinderella Story_, and _Kate and Leopold _if you ever have a chick flick craving. Or if Abby comes over and you get sick of _The Princess Bride _or _The Corpse Bride_." Tony shook his head. "She's really into bride movies, alive or dead."

Ziva frowned, puzzled at his words, but Tony moved on without noticing. "_A Walk to Remember _for the days when you just need a good cry. _Eight Below _is a fantastic story of loyalty and perseverance. Plus," Tony shrugged, "I really love huskies._ Independence Day _is in your Sci-Fi section and finally," he picked up the last DVD, "_The Italian Job_. One of my personal favourite Crime/Action movies, you'll especially like the car scene."

"There," he said, satisfied, "I think I've got you covered." Tony took the box and knelt by the first shelving unit to the left of her empty TV stand, beginning to arrange her new movies. "Now your only job is to add to it."

Ziva wasn't sure what to say. She bit her lip. "Thank you Tony, that is very generous. But..." she trailed off and he looked over his shoulder.

"But what Zi?"

Ziva gestured to the stand on the other side of the room. "I do not have a TV."

"Oh that." He said it like it wasn't that big of a deal. "No problem. I'll come by next weekend or something and we'll start replacing some of the stuff you need. Got a piece of paper and a pen?"

Tony hadn't left a way for Ziva to get out of the shopping trip, she should have guessed that he would offer. At first she shook her head, then remembered the notebook and pen in her leather bag. She rose to get it and brought two glasses of water with her when she came back.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking a sip. When he went to set it on the coffee table, Tony frowned. "Add coasters to that list, after TV and a flower vase. What else do you need?"

Ziva tapped the pen against her lips, something Tony found very distracting, and looked around. "Dish towels," she said, "a phone and answering machine. Rugs."

"Don't forget pictures and picture frames," Tony decided and Ziva looked at him. "Come on Ziva," he reasoned, "It's nice in here and all, but it's a little cold. A few pictures for the walls and some frames to hold these." He pulled an envelope of photos from his back pocket. "Abby asked me to give these to you, just some candid shots of the team." Tony grinned. "Some of them are really old and a few will make you laugh." He looked at her for a minute. "For some reason Abby seemed absolutely sure I'd be seeing you before she did." Tony left the question unasked and Ziva refused to look at him. "What else?"

Together they brainstormed a list that eventually included TV speakers, a new laptop, clothes - "Though I think Abby would be better to help you with that than me," he said self-consciously - winter books and coat, and a couple of plants, among other things.

When they were content with what they'd come up with, Tony pulled his laptop out of the black backpack he'd brought. "Today is _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,_" he announced. Ziva immediately jumped up and started for the kitchen, then stopped and turned back. He sighed. "Let me guess, no popcorn."

Ziva nodded disappointedly and glanced at her fridge. "I could make a salad," she suggested and Tony grimaced.

"No thanks. But you better add popcorn to that list. And maybe some potato chips, just for fun."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Get the movie ready then, I need to put my roast on or it will be ready too late for supper."

Once Ziva had the roast in the oven, she sank down on the couch beside Tony. He had the computer balanced on his lap and they had to sit quite close so both could see properly. The proximity made Ziva a little uncomfortable, though Tony was enjoying it. But the action of the movie was enough to make her forget, and near the end Ziva was even translating some of the words being shouted by SS officers when he asked her if she could. He's always wondered what they were saying.

When the movie finished and three men rode off into the sunset, Tony closed his laptop and looked at his partner. "So, what did you think?"

Ziva admitted that it was a good film. "I especially liked the skill and creativity Indiana showed in getting out of prickly situations."

Tony grinned. He loved it when she messed up the idioms. There'd been days he thought he'd never hear her mangle her English again, and he'd wanted nothing more than to just hear her voice one more time. "It's 'sticky' situations Ziva," he corrected. "And I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She folded her hands and looked around. "Now what?"

Tony looked pleased. "I was hoping you would ask that." He opened a zippered pocket and produced a pack of cards. "Voila!"

Ziva eyed the backpack suspiciously. "Is that like Mary Pippin's magic bag? It has everything you will ever need?"

"Mary Poppins," Tony informed her, trying to keep from groaning. It had not been one of her more favourite movies, even with the singing. "And yes, as a matter of fact, I think I'm prepared for almost every conceivable contingency."

"How about a flood?" Ziva teased, getting up to check on her roast.

Ignoring her, though he was already thinking about telling her that if he yanked on the straps hard enough, his backpack would become an inflatable raft and they could float to safety in the event of a flood, Tony dealt out the cards for a game of Whist.

Ziva smiled when she came back and realized what he was doing. Just for the chance to see that again, her smile, they also played a hand of Yaniv before switching to more traditional games like Crazy Eight's and Go Fish, because it sounded like fun. Ziva had never heard of the children's card game before and thoroughly enjoyed it, not to mention beating him on her first try.

By later afternoon they were done playing cards and once Ziva checked on the progress of dinner again, Tony had an idea. "How about a walk?" he suggested. "Let's get to know your new neighbourhood."

It was then that Ziva looked down at herself and realized she was still in her pjs. Smiling to cover her embarrassment, she held up one finger. "Perhaps I should get changed first, yes?"

Tony took in her attire and tried not to laugh. "Yeah, that might be a good idea."

While she was in her bedroom and then the bathroom, Tony cleaned up a bit and set up the last surprised he'd brought for her. Then Ziva came out in army green cargo pants and a long sleeved blue shirt with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She carried a light jacket just in case it was cool outside.

"I am ready," she announced.

"Great," he smiled. "Let's hit the road." Her face screwed up in confusion and Tony shook his head. "It's another one of those sayings that doesn't make sense whether English is your first language or your fifth. My mother also told me not to play in the street or I'd become a spot on the road."

Ziva frowned and let him exit the apartment first so she could lock the door. As soon as they got outside, Tony reached for Ziva's hand as he'd done so many times during their two weeks, when that was all she could tolerate. But he dropped it again with a sigh when she gave him a look, and shoved his hands into his jean pockets to keep himself out of trouble.

It was a nice day out and they walked close, though not close enough to brush against teach other, as they took a leisurely stroll around Ziva's new home. At one point there was a large puddle and Tony held Ziva's hand for balance as she jumped over it, looking like a graceful ballerina. If she noticed after that he never let go, Ziva was gracious enough not to say anything. But the way her hand turned to fit snugly in his made Tony hope that she was actually enjoying his touch instead of merely tolerating it. Maybe someday she would want more.

By the time they arrived back at the apartment, Ziva decided Tony had earned himself an invitation to dinner. It seemed to be the least she could do after he'd entertained her all day. This time when she opened the oven to check, the roast was finally ready. She looked at Tony who was gathering all his stuff by the door.

"Tony," she asked, "would you like to stay for supper?"

His answering smile was worth offering and she reached into the cupboard for two plates while Tony got out glasses and filled them with milk. It was then Ziva noticed something else that needed to go on the list. "I do not have a kitchen table," she blurted out.

They were both standing there with plates and glasses in hand and started laughing. "No, you don't," Tony said at last. " But there's walls and a floor, that'll do nicely." And he proceeded to sit down, using the wall to lean back against. "Works for me," he grinned.

Ziva appreciated how easy Tony made things and joined him on the floor. They spent dinner discussing innocuous topics and Tony continually praised her cooking. "It is not as if you cannot cook Tony," she reminded him finally.

"No," he said, taking another bite of meat and chewing it thoughtfully. "In fact, I've been doing more of that lately. But my meals are just edible. Ziva, yours are a pleasure."

Not quite knowing what to say, Ziva looked down at her plate and finished her carrots. When they were done, Tony helped her wash dishes and they left them to dry, since dish towels were also on the list. Then it was time for Tony to go and he seemed to understand.

"Thanks for dinner Ziva. I'll have to return the favour sometime."

She smiled and leaned against the door. "Goodnight Tony."

"Night Zi," he said. Then he was gone.

Ziva shut the door and locked it, struggling with the emotions she felt. She'd enjoyed the day and evening, but had she enjoyed it too much? There had not been a second except for when the buzzer woke her up that Ziva wished Tony wasn't there and that she had the day to herself. She wasn't sure she was any good at being alone anymore and that bothered her immensely.

Frustrated, Ziva plopped down on the couch, only to notice something leaning against the wall beside her TV stand. It was the homemade target Tony had created for her to use during her last day at his place. A smile spread across her face and Ziva hurried to collect her knives from their hiding places. Then she sat on the couch and took aim at the target again and again.

It helped to get her feelings out and blow off some smoke, but it still miffed Ziva that her and Tony's lives were becoming so intertwined she barely knew where the separation was anymore. The scarier thought hit her like lightning and she wondered if deep down in her heart, she even wanted there to be a separation. It was a lot to think about and even after Ziva was laying in bed in the dark, the idea kept her awake. No matter what she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about 'what if?' and that was more unsettling than anything else.


	25. Chapter 25

Sunday morning Ziva left her building at 7 am to go for a run but she came to an abrupt halt outside the doors, surprised and more than a little confused to find Tony sitting on a bench in shorts and a t-shirt. She lifted one eyebrow and he shrugged.

"I thought maybe we could make this a tradition," Tony commented. So far, this would be the second Sunday morning they'd done a run together.

Ziva didn't say anything as he fell into step beside her and Tony took that as a yes. Having never run from Harmon House before, Ziva had been planning to experiment with distance and time, but for her partner's sake she kept the pace undemanding and the length to just two miles. One easy day couldn't hurt too much, she reasoned.

The two were silent as they focused on their breathing and pumped their arms and legs in a steady rhythm. As often as he could, Tony let his eyes stray to Ziva, enjoying the freedom of her movement and her disciplined form. It was good to see that she didn't move like she hurt any more. He'd hated those early days when every step, every reach, every twist and turn had been checked, as her eyes, if not her face, betrayed the pain her body was in. Today was a breath of fresh air compared to that.

Ziva ended the route two blocks from her apartment and Tony spied the small diner they'd gone to Friday night with the team. A raise of his eyebrows and a grin asked the question, and his partner, always able to read him well, nodded her head in agreement.

They slipped into a booth, both scanning the room out of habit, noting number of people, their locations, and what escape routes were available. The diner was pretty quiet for the early hour, but Tony guessed that in a little while it would be bustling with people.

After a minute, a middle aged woman glided over with menus and a notepad in her hand. "Mornin'," she smiled. "I'm Helen. Coffee to start?"

"Please," Tony dipped his head, already liking her.

"I will have tea," Ziva said softly.

"Tea and coffee coming right up. Take a peek at the menu and see what sounds good. I have to say," she winked, "Dan makes the best corn beef hash I've ever had."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tony promised, flipping to the first page.

By the time their hot drinks had arrived, Tony and Ziva knew what they wanted. Helen bit her tongue to keep from mentioning how similar their tastes were. Or rather, opposite, but still in sync somehow. Tony got scrambled eggs and white toast, Ziva chose poached eggs and brown toast. Tony got bacon, "Crispy please," he added, and Ziva chose ham, obviously not feeling kosher this morning. Tony was enthusiastic about the homefries that came with his breakfast, Ziva managed to sweet talk Helen into switching hers for veggies at no extra charge. It wasn't that hard.

While they waited, Tony and Ziva kept the conversation casual, related to work and friends and absolutely nothing personal. Their meals arrived in record time and Helen watched from a distance in fascination as Ziva rolled a couple of her carrots onto Tony's plate, and he set a piece of bacon next to her ham. They acted as if there was nothing unusual about their behaviour and it made her wonder. They seemed like a couple and yet not at the same time.

Digging through the packages of jam, Ziva handed Tony two strawberry ones and took grape for herself. Later, Tony pushed his plate to the middle of the table so they could share the rest of his homefries. Helen wondered if they realized how good they were together.

Satisfied at last, Ziva leaned back against the seat and Tony reached for the money he'd tucked into a pocket, hoping for this. Ziva frowned, wanting to argue, but having not planned for breakfast, she did not bring any cash with her. After saying goodbye to Helen, who treated the couple like her new favourite customers, they walked leisurely back to her building.

As Ziva turned to say thank you and goodbye, she saw Tony rummaging for something in the backseat of his car. Standing up, he held his laptop and two movies. "Chronicles of Narnia, Ziva," Tony grinned, "a great way to spend the rest of the morning."

Unable to reason with the light in his eyes, Ziva rolled hers and led the way up to her place. Once inside, she gathered her things and pointed to the couch. "Relax. I am going for a shower."

Tony stared after her. He hadn't expected that. Hearing the lock turn, he immediately looked for something to occupy himself. Thinking about Ziva in the shower was not a good idea. Glancing around, Tony's eyes fell on her key ring. Less than ten minutes later Ziva stepped out of the bathroom, running a brush through her hair. Her partner was lounging on the couch playing Hangman on his phone. He raised his eyes to her and looked uncertain.

"Hey, it is okay if I grab a shower too? If you're hanging out with me for awhile it would be nice if I didn't stink."

Ziva shrugged. "I do not have any extra towels." And letting him use hers would cross a huge black line that she wasn't ready for.

Tony held up a black bag. "Grabbed my overnight stuff from my trunk."

"Alright," she said slowly, "that is fine."

"You're sure?" Tony didn't want to be invading her space in any way.

"Yes," she repeated. "I will find something to do."

"Ten minutes," Tony promised and Ziva laughed. He looked confused. "What?"

"Have you ever noticed that men take much longer in the shower than women? Your hair is not even long."

Tony patted his head self-consciously. "I use special shampoo."

Ziva bit her lip and turned toward her bedroom as soon as he closed the door. She was not entirely comfortable with Tony showering at her apartment and it suddenly seemed that much smaller. She was about to find a way to keep busy in her room when her eyes fell on Tony's laptop.

The war waged within her was very brief. Ziva lifted the lid and pressed the on button. The desktop became visible and she scanned the icons, interested to see what Tony kept on his computer. A folder labeled simply "ZD" caught her eye, and Ziva's brow wrinkled. She hesitated for a long moment before clicking on it, surprised to see about twelve files with her name on them, each bearing a different date.

Ziva opened the first one and scanned the document quickly. It wasn't very long.

_Why did you stay in Israel Zi? I missed you before the plane wheels were even up. I've picked up my phone to call you a dozen times, but I can never actually dial the number. I wish you'd let me say I'm sorry, because I am. Maybe I should've been the one who got shot. Maybe that would've been easier for everyone._

Her eyes widened and she stared in horror at the words. This was Tony's diary, but they were letters to her. She touched the screen gently, blocking out the last sentences. She was no longer sorry Tony was the one who survived. Michael was not who she thought, who she hoped. Tony was everything she hoped.

The thought struck her motionless and Ziva tried to pretend she hadn't just said those words in her head. To distract herself, she closed that document and opened one in the middle.

_Two months Zi. It's been two months since you left and we haven't heard anything, not a word. I'd understand if it was just me, I know you probably still hate me for killing your boyfriend, but you haven't even contacted Abby. McShrink said maybe you needed a clean break but I thought this was your home, I thought we were your family. Come home Ziva. We miss you, we need you._

Left unwritten were the echoes of Tony's voice that she could hear in her mind. _I miss you. I need you_. She'd been in the middle of hell when he'd typed that, caring, missing her even when she thought they had all written her off. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes but Ziva willed them away. She wasn't done yet.

The next one she chose was two from the bottom. It was very brief.

_Gibbs told us today that you died when the Damocles sank. My heart no longer beats and life has become a blur. Nothing will ever fill this gaping hole in my life. I think I might've loved you Ziva, now I'll never know._

Her tears did more than threaten as she stared at the screen, feeling the raw pain emanating from her partner's words. But before she even had time to process what she'd read, the water in the bathroom turned off. Afraid of getting caught, Ziva quickly shut everything down and put the computer back where she'd found it.

Grabbing a book off the shelf, she plopped onto her bed and opened it, pretending to read when Tony stuck his head in the door a few minutes later. Her heart was pounding and when she thought back, Ziva would be glad she'd grabbed one of the Hebrew novels, because Tony hadn't known she was holding it upside-down.

**NCIS**

Ziva had read the Chronicles of Narnia books as a child and was surprised to discover that the movies were well done. Tony did catch her crossing her arms and muttering a few times about them changing things, but other than that she was pleasant company.

He felt her eyes on him more than once, but every time Tony looked at Ziva, she focused back on the movie. It struck him as strange and something seemed to have changed. They sat with shoulders brushing and Ziva's feet almost tucked under his leg, because she had her knees pulled up. Tony knew being so close wasn't usually her favourite thing, but this day she didn't even try to move away and he smiled, hoping it was a step back to where they had been before she left his place.

Halfway through the second movie, Ziva paused it. "Are you hungry? I can make lunch."

Tony shrugged, never one to turn down food. "Okay. Want help?"

She shook her head. "No thank you."

He watched her walk into the kitchen and then minimized the movie program and looked at the one folder on his desktop that never failed to remind him to be thankful for Ziva. With a few quick clicks he buried the folder in his documents, so glad he didn't need it any more.

Next, Tony went looking for the new folder he'd created the day after they brought her home. This one was labeled simply, "ILY", for the words 'I love you', a revelation he'd been trying hard to grasp at that point. They were words he still feared he might never get the chance to say or hear reciprocated.

Several documents were already inside, many of them more than half a page long, a far cry from his original snippets of letters to Ziva. These ones were full of his hopes and dreams, and cataloged his pain for her as he watched her struggle day after day to simply live again. Tony opened a new document and saved it with the rest.

_You have a home now Ziva, your own space, and though I know you wanted it and need it, I still wish you could've found your home with me._

His fingers hovered over the keys, wondering if he should continue. Ziva could turn around at any moment and only heaven knew how much of his heart was in his eyes right now. Stifling a sigh, Tony let the words come.

_I miss you Zi. In my car every morning, in my apartment after work, in my kitchen while we cook, in my bed when we were asleep. I had everything I ever wanted when I held you in my arms and even though I knew those days and hours couldn't last, I still hoped so badly that they would._

Tony dragged a hand over his face, the sound of Ziva humming in the kitchen momentarily distracting him from a page full of regrets.

_It's so quiet at my place without you there and my life feels empty even when I see you sitting across from me at work every day. I love you, Ziva David, I just wish you were ready to hear me say it._

The sound of footsteps alerted Tony to Ziva's return and he quickly shut the document down and threw the movie back up on screen. He reached for the bowl and stared in disbelief, complaining out of principle. "Salad, really?" he had to ask.

Ziva rolled her eyes. "It is not just lettuce Tony," she explained patiently. "There are shaved carrots, alfalfa sprouts, celery, cucumber, leftover roast beef and dressing. Just try it."

"I'll try it," he groused, gathering a forkful, "but I highly doubt..." His words trailed off as Tony took a bite, then waved his fork to stall until he could continue. His eyes widened and he swallowed. "Wow, this is fantastic!"

She chuckled. "Tony DiNozzo likes salad? I never thought I would see the day."

"Me either," he admitted. Then he pressed play on the movie again and proceeded to wolf down the rest of the green stuff in his bowl. It wasn't even five minutes later when Tony turned to her with a pleading look.

Ziva delicately took another forkful of salad and chewed it slowly, pretending she didn't notice. Tony didn't stop staring at her until she finished the last bit in the bottom of her bowl. "Alright Tony," she smiled, "you may have seconds." He beamed and gratefully handed over his bowl. Ziva gave him a knowing look. It was her favourite salad too.

By early afternoon the movies were over and before Tony could even try to come up with an excuse to not leave yet, Ziva leaned over and pulled open the doors of her coffee table. "I found a chess set under here last night," she explained, "with a note from Ducky saying he no longer needed it and seemed to remember I enjoyed playing." Ziva tilted her head to the side. "Would you like to play a game? I could teach you."

Glad for anything that let him stay, Tony agreed. "I know how to play," he announced, surprising her. "This old butler Dad kept on staff, Jeffrey, taught me the game when I was ten, said it was a good way to keep me out of mischief for awhile."

Pleased that he was sharing a memory with her, Ziva smiled and began setting up the board. Tony put some classic movie soundtrack music on, adjusting the sound for his laptop, wanting to forestall any awkward silences. He could always sing along, if they needed a distraction. Then he helped Ziva finish putting the pieces in place. The board was set up in the middle of her coffee table and they both slipped to the floor to sit one on either side.

Ziva took white and they began. One after another she countered his moves and though Tony put up a valiant fight, she beat him soundly. Two games later he was still no closer to winning. "Oh, come on Ziva," he groaned, "give a guy a break!"

She looked up in surprise. "You want me to toss the game?"

He rolled his eyes. "Throw. And no, but I wish you weren't so good at this. I guess I'm a little rusty."

A triumphant smile lit her face. "Check!" she said gleefully.

"Not again!" Tony sighed and surveyed his remaining pieces. "You don't have to gloat," he muttered and Ziva tried to rein in her smile. Finally he found another move he could make and the game continued for awhile longer. Still, despite his complaining, Tony honestly couldn't think of a better way to spend a couple of hours, looking at his partner over the chessboard. It was a memory he wouldn't soon forget.


	26. Chapter 26

Since he was already there, Tony was automatically assumed to stay for supper. So when Ziva got up after the chessboard was put away, he followed her to the kitchen, intent on helping. He was surprised when Ziva closed the fridge door rather forcefully and watched in mild disbelief as she slammed almost empty cupboards one after another.

"Uhh...Zi?" Tony asked cautiously.

"I do not have any right ingredients!" she exclaimed in frustration, throwing up her hands.

"Okay..." he drew the word out, sticking his hands in his pockets. "No biggie. Let's just make a list of everything you need and I'll take you grocery shopping."

Ziva whirled around, eyes flashing, and Tony was afraid of what might come next. Words like, "I do not want your help" and "I can do this on my own", wanted to fly off her tongue, but Ziva bit them back, partly because she did not want to be rude and partly because she knew they were a lie. Finally she dropped her eyes to the floor and crossed her arms.

"Fine," she muttered.

When she didn't move, Tony risked losing a hand and got the notebook Ziva had used yesterday out of her purse. He returned to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, preparing to be dictated to. "Ready."

Ziva looked up in surprise and stared at him for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and started going over recipes in her head. "Chicken, snow peas, red and yellow peppers, zucchini, angel hair pasta, teriyaki sauce..."

Tony scrawled the items down as fast as he could, trying to keep up with her. Eventually the list included a very decent set of starter ingredients for her pantry stock. When Ziva glanced at what he'd written and was sure he hadn't missed anything, she grabbed her keys, jacket, and purse, and Tony took the hint.

They drove in silence to a grocery store five minutes away. Tony trailed her around as she found everything, and he was reminded of the first shopping trip they went on together. He was also the one to remember that they needed a box of popcorn for the next time he showed up at her apartment with his laptop and a stack of DVDs.

At the cash Tony slipped a twenty to the cashier before Ziva got her wallet out and when she caught him, he just shrugged. "I seem to be eating a lot of your food lately."

Knowing it was useless to argue him out of contributing even if it bothered her sense of independence, Ziva gave up. She paid the balance and they both grabbed several bags to carry out to the car. Once back at her place, Tony handed her what they'd bought one by one, watching with interest as she meticulously put the items away.

Finally, when they'd bundled the bags together and left them under the sink, he looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Ready to try that supper thing again?"

Ziva nodded and began getting out what she needed. While she cooked, Tony hovered, wanting to help but generally just getting in the way. To keep him busy, Ziva set him up on the other side of the sink with a knife and the vegetables. "Here," she said, "cut these into small pieces." She demonstrated, then left him to it while she started on the pasta.

Comfort filled the small kitchen with the knowledge that they'd done this before. A little later Tony snuck a glance at his partner. "So," he began, "how'd the psyche evals go?" It probably wasn't her favourite subject but he was still curious.

Ziva dropped the wooden spoon and moved to stir the chicken and sauce. "They are over," she stated bluntly, hoping to shut down more of a conversation about it. "Vance will be informing me of his decision tomorrow."

Tony smiled, glad to hear the news. "That's great. I can't wait to have you back on our team officially." He nudged her shoulder gently. "I miss going out on calls and knowing you'll have my back."

"Do not get your hopes up Tony," Ziva said in an emotionless voice. "Vance could still say no."

"No way," Tony shook his head emphatically, refusing to even think about that possibility. "Not happening."

She sighed and turned the heat off on the stove. Tony held bowls while she spooned the food in. Then he slung his arm around her shoulder briefly. "Let's go watch a movie, Partner."

They agreed on Italian Job and as per Tony's prediction, she loved the car chase scene. Ziva had a moment of nostalgia as she thought about her Mini and how much she missed being able to drive. She hated taking the bus. By the end of the movie, Tony could see that Ziva was getting tired, so he volunteered to wash dishes while she got ready for bed. Ziva eyed him skeptically but accepted the offer, covering a yawn as she headed for the bathroom.

A few minutes alone gave Tony time to think again about what it would be like if this was their life - spending lazy weekends together, cooking dinner, relaxing on the couch with a movie, doing dishes and going to bed. He missed Ziva at his place more than he wanted to admit. Abby might understand, seeing as how McGee was now apparently living at her apartment, mostly so they could fall asleep together. They were sharing a life and Tony wasn't ashamed to say that he envied his friends.

When Ziva came out of her bedroom with a dark blue silk dressing gown over her pyjamas, (it was a present Abby had left for her to find with a note written in calligraphy - _Something to help you feel beautiful again, because you are, even if you can't see that yet._ She'd never forgotten when Tony had slipped and said something about Ziva having scars), he glanced over his shoulder and smiled as he rinsed off the last dish.

"Hey." Ziva smiled briefly, feeling a bit self-conscious and under-dressed. "So I was thinking," Tony continued, turning around, "it's late. Why don't I just sleep on your couch tonight and then I'll take you into work tomorrow, as early as you want."

Ziva's heart jumped at the thought of having him so close, but her independent streak, which had been growing all week as she did things on her own, protested vehemently. She shook her head, propping her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. "We have not been drinking Tony," she reminded him, "you do not need to stay."

"Well," Tony scrambled for a better excuse and rubbed his stomach, "I had a lot of water and y'know, it can hit you pretty hard after awhile."

She gave him a look and he knew he was losing. If he could just get Ziva to cave once, it might happen again. But it didn't look like she was going to let it happen, not this time. "I am fine," she stated in an inarguable tone.

Tony threw her a half grin to cover the depth of his disappointment. Was it so much to ask just to be close to her? He shrugged. "It was worth a try." _Next time I'll try harder_, he thought to himself.

He got ready reluctantly, but before he stepped out the door, Tony turned back to face her. "Call me Zi, if you need anything, even just someone to hold your hand. I'm only five minutes away." That was pushing things a bit, it was closer to seven, but five sounded better.

Ziva put her hand on the door frame. "Good night Tony." She could not bring herself to be that weak, telling him that she needed him.

"Night Ziva."

She locked the door and left the light on in her room, but that didn't make it any easier to fall asleep. Too many things were vying for attention in her head and none of them were helping her settle down. Ziva sighed. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Exhausted when she woke to an annoying beeping noise, Ziva neglected to reset her watch alarm after it went off a second time.

**NCIS**

AAAHHHHHHHH! Ziva's own scream tore her from something so awful it could not possibly be called sleep. She sat up, gasping for air, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as she tried to forget the images that had played behind her eyes. Images that, two months ago, had been real events.

Slowly Ziva lay back down and pulled the comforter around herself, absently wondering what on earth her neighbours would be thinking. Once upon a time, nightly screams might've mean she was enjoying herself, with the hum of the air conditioner in the background, but not now.

_And never again_, Ziva added, sure she would never be able to find pleasure in that act again, not after Somalia, not after having it taken from her by force again and again. Curling up into a ball, Ziva fought the tremors she couldn't stop and watched as the numbers on her alarm clock clicked slowly by. She would not get any more sleep this night.

**NCIS**

A 0430 start was not the best idea when it was her future at NCIS being decided today, Ziva noted. The frustration she felt at the situation in general and several little things in particular were taken out in her workout. She spent extra time on the treadmill, pushing herself, and went a few rounds with the punching bag as well. But her morning was not improved at all when she literally fell asleep standing up in the shower, catching herself just before she would've hit her head on the wall.

Ziva was at her desk at 0700 and pretended to work until 0800. By then the rest of the team had arrived and everyone was buried in paperwork, but she couldn't sit still. She rearranged the items on her desk five times, sorted through her wire office supplies organizer, counted paperclips in a new box to see if there were exactly two hundred, and alphabetized her computer's desktop.

McGee glanced at her occasionally with a curious look on his face, but mostly stayed out of it. Tony watched his partner intently until Gibbs snapped at him to keep his eyes on his own desk. But as the hour slowly passed, his concern for Ziva grew. When Gibbs couldn't put up with her fidgeting any more, he leveled a glare at her.

"David! Lab, now!"

Ziva looked up, confused, and opened her mouth to ask. But she must've decided against it and instead quietly excused herself and made a beeline for the back elevator. Tony watched her go and chanced a glance at Gibbs. "Sure that's a good idea Boss?"

The question earned Tony a 'ya think?' look. "Who's better at distraction than Abby?"

"Ah," Tony nodded, appreciating what Gibbs was doing. "Good point."

Abby had been prepared by a quick phone call from McGee and had Bert the Hippo ready and waiting when Ziva walked into her lap. "Hi," she said to her friend, smiling. "So, Bert had a really bad weekend." Without waiting for a reply, Abby fingered a tiny rip on the hippo's mouth and continued. "Jethro accidentally mistook him for a chew toy. Anyways," she held out the stuffed animal, "he needs a hug. And he specifically requested you."

Ziva eyed the innocent looking grey mammal warily. "No thank you Abby."

Abby immediately gasped and covered her hippo's ears. "Don't say that out loud Ziva!" she admonished. "You'll hurt Bert's feelings." She petted his head soothingly. "He's sensitive."

Ziva crossed her arms and didn't say a word.

"Fine." Abby rolled her eyes. "It was worth a shot." She approached her friend and wrapped her arms around Ziva. "Vance is going to say yes Ziva, he's got to."

Ziva gave her a weak smile. She stood still for a minute and then slowly began to pace from the door to Abby's office and back again. "What are you working on?" she asked absently.

Abby grinned. "My strategy for Minesweeper." She shrugged at the look she got. "No case yet and Gibbs won't let McGee come down to play."

Pulling out the knife at her waist, Ziva turned it over and over in her hands as she walked. It was making Abby nervous. The former Mossad operative was not exactly focused and she was afraid a trip to Ducky might be in order. For the next half hour Abby played and consecutively lost at Minesweeper and Ziva attempted to pave a path in the concrete floor. It was quiet in the lab, minus Abby's music playing, and the Goth wasn't used to it.

Finally the silence was broken. "When is your date with McGee?" Ziva asked suddenly, looking up.

A smile played on Abby's lips and she twirled a piece of her hair. "We already had it, on Friday," she explained.

Ziva enjoyed the expression on her friend's face that looked an awful lot like what she imagined love was. "And?" It did not seem like it would be hard to get details.

"He 'picked me up' at seven," Abby said, putting the word in quotation marks. "Meaning he stepped outside after he was dressed and knocked on the door. Then he gave me a red rose and told me I looked beautiful. He used his penname to pull some strings and get us into this fancy restaurant I've always wanted to go to." She shrugged. "The whole thing was very...sweet."

"Mmm..." Ziva nodded. "I feel as if that is something Tim would excel at." She stopped pacing long enough to meet Abby's eyes. "Are you going to go out again?"

"This Friday," Abby shared. "It seems like it's becoming a regular thing. Not that I'm complaining," she held up her hands.

Ziva tapped the flat of her knife against her palm, causing Abby to wince, sure she'd be cleaning blood off the lab floor before the day was out. "Why did things with McGee not work out the first time?"

Since the Israeli was normally not one to pry, Abby considered the question carefully, making sure she explained it right. In the end, the answer was simple. "He wanted something serious and I didn't want anything to do with the word."

"Has that changed now?" Ziva asked and Abby got the distinct impression that she was looking out for both her and McGee.

"Yes," Abby replied. "I've tasted serious, I've seen what it looks like, and I don't think I've ever felt more secure or more sure of anything in my life."

Her words brought a smile to Ziva's eyes. "That is good," she approved. "So if McGee was to ask you more officially about something more...permanent, what would you say?"

Just the thought of something permanent with her boyfriend made Abby blush, but it was the glow of love that really gave away her answer before she said anything. "I would say yes."

Ziva nodded as if all was right in the world now and went back to staring at the floor as she followed the same path over and over again. Abby watched her for a long time, wondering if now was the right time to ask her friend about Tony, but decided it would be better to wait until she was a little less distracted, so the black haired girl went back to her game.

After about thirty minutes, the motion of Ziva walking back and forth was starting to get on Abby's nerves, but especially with the decision that was looming today, and in light of the moment they'd shared earlier, she didn't have the heart to send Ziva away. So Abby was incredibly thankful when the phone rang.

"Got it Gibbs," she nodded, looking up to meet Ziva's eyes. "Team got a case," she explained. "Gibbs wants you upstairs in case they need any research done." Trying not to act relieved that Ziva was being given something to do, Abby followed the rather complacent woman to the door and hugged her again. "It's going to be okay," she whispered, "it really will."

Ziva studied her with sad eyes and said nothing. Back in the bullpen she stared at the phone for ten minutes, waiting for it to ring and give her something to do. But it didn't, so out of sheer boredom she retrieved the agent manual from McGee's desk and read it nearly cover to cover by the time the guys got back.

"What do we have?" she asked.

The three men exchanged glances and Tony smiled at her. "Want some coffee Ziva? I'm buying."

Suspicious because they were all avoiding her question, Ziva rose slowly from her chair and followed Tony to the elevator. They stood in line at the coffee stand and walked a little ways away towards the trees on the other side of the building.

"The wait getting to you?" he asked. It was pretty obvious she wasn't handling the level of tension very well.

Ziva dropped onto a bench. "If Vance does not accept me, I have nowhere else to go." She looked around, taking in the familiar DC surroundings that she'd come to love. "I have no desire to be back in Israel." She sighed. "It is no longer my home."

Tony reached for her hand, intent on offering what little comfort he could without words and Ziva slapped him away angrily. She crossed her arms and glared daggers at him. "Tony! Why do you always have to be touching me?" She'd gotten more used to it while they shared the same space, and had accepted it as they found a firm footing for the friendship over the last couple weeks. But he was always pushing the lines she drew and Ziva wanted to know why.

All his bravado melted away and Ziva had a feeling she was seeing directly into his heart. Tony's eyes never left hers. "Because it's the only way I know you're really alive and I didn't just dream the whole thing. My biggest fear is that I'll wake up one morning and this - you, alive and here - will all be gone." He sighed. "My heart can't take it twice Zi, you dying again would kill me. I'm just trying to show you that I care." It was the honest truth, at least as much of it as he thought she could handle.

Ziva dropped her arms, letting her spine relax. When she spoke, her tone was much more gentle than her previous frustration. "I understand, believe me. So many time I have wondered if this is really real, not just a dream they have created to torture me even more. But your touch..." she closed her eyes, suppressing a shudder, and Tony's gaze narrowed. "It brings up memories Tony. I cannot always have you so close." _Even if sometimes I wish I could handle having you closer_. Her mind kept adding thoughts she wasn't yet ready to acknowledge.

Tony's expression froze even as familiar words poured from his lips. "Ziva, you know...you have to know by now that I would never hurt you." She looked away and he felt the need to press. "What memories?"

She refused to meet his eyes. "The kind I hope you will never hear about. If you did..." she shook her head, "nothing would ever be the same again."

Then Ziva turned around and walked back into the building, leaving Tony to try to grasp what she meant. It was time.

**NCIS**

Ziva was in Vance's outer office by 1050, but she before she had a chance to pace there as well, his secretary spoke. "Ms. David? The Director will see you now." He must've suspected she would be early.

Straightening her shoulders, Ziva opened the door and stepped inside. Vance looked up from a folder he was reading and nodded at her. "David. Have a seat."

Wanting to argue that she would stand but unable to risk Vance's ire when he alone held the key that would either let her back into NCIS or lock her out forever, Ziva did as she was asked.

Pulling out a red folder from the pile on his desk, Director Vance met her eyes. "I've read the report from your psychiatrist, you barely passed your psyche eval."

Ziva's gaze hardened. "But I did pass."

"Yes." Vance sighed and tapped his pen on the wooden desk. "And it's not as simple as just overlooking everything else and putting you back on Gibbs' team." He leaned back in his chair. "We caught a case today that involves you, Officer David." Vance purposely used her former title and watched the contempt flow into her dark eyes. "Tell me about your last mission for Mossad."

She frowned. "I am not permitted to talk about Mossad operations."

Vance nodded slowly. "So it's a question of loyalty then."

Ziva's eyes widened. "You are questioning my loyalty now? Even after three months of being tortured for hours and days, put through things you may not even be able to imagine, I never told Saleem anything. I am loyal to NCIS, but that changes nothing."

His cold gaze took in her passionate outburst without flinching. "That's what I'm afraid of." Leaning his elbows on the desk, Vance held Ziva's eyes. "You've been in the service of two masters for too long. Now you have to choose."

Vance's words echoed Eli's tirade in her head when he'd wanted her to return to Mossad, to make her country and her duty to him her aliyah. How was she to choose when Mossad wasn't merely a job to her, but a calling that had been bred into her very soul?

Sensing her emotional quandary, the Director leaned on the point a little bit harder. "I know Gibbs wants you back. Your friends and team want you back. And I think NCIS would be lucky to have you. But there's some questions that have come up in this case and your application is in danger. I need to know what happened."

Vance held up his hands in surrender, washing away his responsibility for the outcome. "You want in, you want to be one of my agents, then talk to me, now. That's the price of admission."He waited, watching Ziva's face and body language. It was clear when she finally gave in. He started in a stern tone of voice. "Take me back to the Damocles."

And reluctantly, feeling in her heart as if she were betraying something sacred, Ziva did.


	27. Chapter 27

At the end of that long trying day, when the truth was out and Malachai had been escorted off the premises, carrying with him Gibbs' order to Eli that Ziva was off limits, the silver haired man sat down across from her and tapped his finger on her hand.

"Don't bury it Ziva," he said quietly. "Finish it."

Taking a breath, Ziva told Gibbs about leaving her wounded team and finding a guide who would take her to the terrorist camp. "I fought my way through their defenses. I got within a fingernail of Saleem before I was...overpowered." The memory still stung. "I had nothing but death in my heart."

Gibbs shook his head solemnly. "You didn't have a choice. Eli raised you to be a ruthless, soulless killer and that part of you died out there. Give yourself a chance to come back from this Ziva, we're not going anywhere."

Ziva bit her lip, meeting his eyes with difficulty. "I am sorry Gibbs," she said brokenly.

Gibbs stood up, a slight smile on his face. He rounded the table and bent down to whisper in her ear four words that, more than anything else, obliterated what remained of her defenses. "Don't be," he said, "you're home." Then the man who loved her like a daughter kissed her head and left the room.

Ziva felt her lips tremble and her face crumple as the tears came. But for once, they were tears of relief and joy, not grief.

**NCIS**

Unbeknownst to anyone else, after making sure Malachai was safely away, Tony lingered at the end of the hall until Director Vance left Observation. Then he quietly slipped in and heard the story Ziva told Gibbs about how she was captured and what she was thinking.

The only thing Tony didn't know was what Gibbs had whispered to Ziva, but he saw her shoulders shake and knew he had to go to her. When Ziva was hurting, nothing could keep him away except her. Though maybe today, maybe this moment she would let him in, let him help, let him be there for her.

When Tony opened the door to Interrogation, he saw Ziva sitting in the chair, trying not to cry. Going to her, he knelt beside his partner. "Oh Ziva," he said softly, "it's okay. It's okay to cry. Just let it out Zi, you don't have to be strong for me."

Ziva felt his arm come around her and wondered how he always seemed to know when she needed someone, needed him. But she shook her head, not wanting him to see her like that again.

Tony cradled her against him. "Shh Ziva. Let me be your strength."

Somehow those words opened the floodgates and Ziva cried then, sobs shaking her whole body. No one had ever offered to be that for her before, her whole life she'd always had to be the strong one. She was embarrassed and yet glad at the same time. Ziva needed this release so badly, but was always afraid to break down in front of anyone, always afraid to be seen as weak or worse, see herself as weak. But then she remembered what Tony had told her once, and Ziva finally felt like it was okay to just be human now.

Finally her tears were spent and Ziva pulled back to look into Tony's gentle green eyes. She smiled small and laid her hand on his cheek. "Thank you Tony," she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek quickly. Then she left.

Tony stayed where he was on the floor, staring at the closed door and feeling bereft. At least she had allowed him to comfort her, to hold her. With a sigh, he stood. He would never, could never, force anything on Ziva. If there was to be something between them, it would have to be her choice. For one of the first times Tony found himself wishing that Ziva wasn't so strong. Because more than anything he wanted to be her choice, but he had a feeling it would never be that easy.

**NCIS**

It was more than an hour before Ziva arrived back at her desk and Tony spent the whole time watching for her. They barely exchanged glances before Gibbs walked by and dropped a piece of paper on top of a stack of folders she had only just noticed.

"Get to work...Probie," he grinned.

Eyes wide, Ziva picked up the paper, joy lighting her face when she saw the word 'APPROVED' stamped in red on her application. Tony and McGee rushed over almost before Gibbs finished speaking. They took the paper from her and immediately turned to exchange high fives.

"Welcome back Ziva," Tony said softly, the look in his eyes deeper than she was brave enough to explore. "I've been waiting a long time to have you for my partner again." He glanced at McGee. "No offense McGoo, but you can't compete with the Ninja."

Tim rolled his eyes and shrugged, perfectly happy to return to his partnerless state if it meant having Ziva back on the team. He brushed his hand down her arm gently, and just smiled, which Ziva understood. She returned their congratulations with a brighter than normal grin. It was possible that she had never been so happy.

**NCIS**

The rest of the evening was a flurry of paperwork and taking care of details. When Gibbs finally let them go for the night, Tony opened his mouth of offer Ziva a ride home and maybe suggest going out to celebrate, when the Director's voice boomed out from the catwalk.

"David." Ziva looked up, startled. "A word." Before she could ask, Tony jerked his head in the direction of the stairs and she quickly hurried up to meet her boss. To her surprise, Director Vance held out his hand to shake hers. Then he actually smiled. "How's it feel to be official?"

Ziva nodded, her expression a little wary. "It is good. I am glad to be part of the team again."

Vance played with his toothpick. "Now that you've been approved to join NCIS, you're going to have to start the process to become a US citizen. We'll help with fast tracking you and hopefully we'll have it taken care of in about six months. Why don't you come see me tomorrow afternoon? I'll have the necessary paperwork and information ready."

She smiled. "Thank you Director."

Vance inclined his head towards her. "Welcome back, Agent David." Then he turned and walked back to his office.

Ziva stood still for a minute, basking in her new title. Agent David. Finally it felt like she meant something again. She could be useful now and she was looking forward to being around to watch her partner's back, since he'd taken such great care of hers over the last month. She owed him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Gibbs met her and laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Go home Ziver, it's been a long day." His eyes said so much more that his words could not, but Ziva understood.

"Thank you Gibbs," she whispered, before going to her desk and gathering her things.

Tony appeared at her side. "Want a ride home Zi? My car's nicer than the bus. Maybe we could stop for a congratulatory smoothie or something."

As much as she knew saying yes would make Tony happy and it would be nice, Ziva felt the need to put some distance between them after that moment in Interrogation earlier. She was not ashamed for crying, but she was unsure of how to deal with the jumbled emotions this man brought out in her. She couldn't think clearly with Tony's green eyes staring at her, watching her, trying to read her and looking for a way in. So regretfully, Ziva shook her head.

"No thank you Tony, I have to make a stop on the way home and I do not want to be a bother." She should've known that wouldn't be enough to put him off.

His expression was earnest as he stepped closer. "No bother Ziva, I'll take you wherever you need to go."

Closing her eyes in frustration, Ziva let out a breath and fixed her gaze on her partner. "Tony," how to make him understand? "You need to let me say no. I will not always have a good reason or be able to explain it but please, let me make my own decisions." She softened her tone, hoping to make the shock in his eyes less. "I need to be able to do that again. I need to do things on my own."

He blinked and immediately covered up his hurt with a fake grin. "Yeah, sure," Tony said, "of course. I'll...see you tomorrow Ziva."

She sighed, wishing he wouldn't take every assertion of independence on her part so hard. He was too close to the situation to see that she needed to try and do this without him. Not without his friendship, but without Tony trying to be around to save her at every bump and turn, whether it was necessary or not. Ziva just wanted some time to be herself again, whoever that turned out to be.

**NCIS**

By the time she got home after stopping for dish towels, Ziva was very tired. Tired and drained. It had been a long, emotional day and so many things had been brought to the surface. Instead of going to bed, she just collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes.

She'd barely been asleep for forty minutes when the nightmare roared in, strong and fierce, and Ziva woke up with a start, cold sweat making her clothes feel gross and uncomfortable. In a fit of annoyance and fear, Ziva picked up the first thing she could reach, her shoe, and hurled it at the wall. It made a loud thud and fell to the floor but did not do any damage.

She was just so sick of being afraid, even in her own space there was no escape from the memories that haunted her sleep and continued to plague her waking hours at the drop of a hat. A longing to feel safe swept over Ziva and there was no stopping her mind from bringing up the last time she truly felt that way - safe and cared for. Her last night at Tony's apartment, in his bed with his arms around her body and his scent surrounding her like the blanket that covered them. Her first night with no dreams.

Ziva squeezed her eyes shut but the image, the memory, would not go away. Suddenly all her self-imposed arguments about keeping her distance from Tony seemed empty and without the merit she was sure they had a couple of hours ago. Running tired fingers through her tangled hair, Ziva made a decision. She might not want to admit she needed help or be able to ask for it, but there was another way.

It was just after midnight when Ziva arrived at Tony's building. It wasn't a terribly long walk, but at a time like this she really missed her car. Careful not to be noticed, Ziva concealed her lock pick in one hand and let herself in the front doors. She traversed the flights of stairs quickly, all the time trying to talk herself out of what she was doing.

Before she knew it, Ziva was standing in front of Tony's door. It only took a second or two and then she was in. The door was closed soundlessly and she stood perfectly still, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. When she could see well enough to get around, Ziva slipped off her shoes and tiptoed down the hall.

Tony was passed out in his room, taking up most of the bed, his head resting on the pillow that had been hers. Ziva allowed herself a faint smile but refused the accompanying thoughts that tried to talk her into more than she'd come for. Ever so quietly she closed the door to his bedroom, then helped herself to a blanket and pillow from the linen closet.

Ziva was glad now for her time spent at Tony's, it was useful to know her way around well enough not to need a light. Back in the livingroom, Ziva felt some of the tension start to drain away as she gratefully sank down on the couch. Setting her watch for two hours, she lay down and let sleep overtake her. For now, everything was okay.

**NCIS**

Tony woke in the middle of the night, blinking blearily at the red numbers on his alarm clock that showed somewhere after three am. He dragged a hand down his face, wanting to forget what he'd just been dreaming. Ziva's words from this morning had haunted him all day and he replayed them over and over again in his head. The determined look in her eyes when she said he would never hear her memories, the flat tone of her voice saying if he did, things would never be the same.

He tried so hard to stop his imagination from running away with what he'd heard, taking him back to Somalia, to her cell, wondering what they hadn't done to her. It seemed to Tony that there wasn't much else they could take away from her. Groggily, he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, needing a distraction, and trying to remember when he'd closed his door. He nearly choked as he started to swallow, his first reacion that something was very wrong if Ziva was sleeping on his couch.

He rubbed his eyes, assuming what he was seeing was a stress and exhaustion induced hallucination. But when he blinked again, she was still there, curled up under a blanket from his linen closet. Looking around, Tony frowned. How had she gotten in? Then he shrugged. _Dang ninja skills_. She probably just stared at the door and used her Jedi mind powers to convince it that it didn't want to be closed.

Sitting down slowly in a chair, Tony stayed in the kitchen for a long time just watching Ziva sleep. This he never would've expected, especially after her speech earlier about needing space. Her words had stung and her insistence of doing everything alone made him angry, but at the same time he was so proud of her for finding her feet and doing everything in her power to gain her independence back.

Eyes and attention fixed wholly on her, Tony wondered if this was what love was. Loving someone even when they couldn't love you back. Being proud of their accomplishments even if it took them further away and left you out. Giving up much needed sleep just for the chance to sit here and watch her.

Loving her even when it meant loving her from across the room, across the bullpen, and at arm's length because she was afraid to let him any closer. Loving her, even when there was nothing in it for him except the joy, thankfulness and relief of seeing her alive and there every single day.

With a sigh, Tony got up, knowing there would still be Gibbs to face come morning and the Bossman was not likely to be gentle if Tony feel asleep at his desk. Before he headed back down the hall, the man took one last look at his partner. She looked peaceful for the moment and her dark hair was fanned out on the pillow in a way that made Tony want to run his fingers through it just to feel the softness again. He missed laying in bed with her and - But Tony resisted, cutting the thought off. Such memories would do him no good right now.

What worried him tonight was the reality that the peace on Ziva's face was in fact very deceptive and it could change at any moment, he knew from experience. And as much as Tony was dying to know why Ziva was in his apartment, he couldn't bring himself to wake her, the dreams would do that soon enough without his help. Instead he smiled and decided to be glad that she was home, even if it was only for one night. Tony would sleep better just knowing she was there.


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: Another chapter, just because I love you guys, and a rather unexpected "morning after". :P But I'm sorry to say this will be the last update until Monday night. I'm out of town for a conference all weekend and have no access to my computer :( But hopefully once I'm back updates will continue to be regular through to the end of the month. Then my schedule at work changes and I don't know what my free time is going to look like._

_Thanks so much for all your reviews and comments, I enjoy every one and you guys make me so happy. Have a great weekend all! :) ~ Aliyah_

Tony kept an ear out for Ziva the rest of the night and heard the lock click at 0500. Knowing that he wasn't going to sleep any more now that his partner was up, Tony wandered out to the livingroom and stared around in surprise. Ziva had cleaned up thoroughly, literally removing any trace of her presence. If he hadn't heard her leave, Tony might've thought he'd been dreaming last night.

Frowning, he decided to shower, taking that time to figure out if she should say anything to Ziva today or not. Tony was into work by 0700, more to check on Ziva and to make sure she was okay than from any real desire to finish up yesterday's case report. She glanced up and smiled when he sat down, but the bullpen remained silent except for the clicking of keys and the scratching of pen on paper. From time to time Tony let his eyes flicker over to Ziva, but she never acted as if today was different than any other day.

Gibbs strode into the bullpen at 0730 with a rather harried McGee following on his heels. "Got a case, gear up!" he barked, annoyed that he'd had to forgo coffee because of the call.

For a moment Ziva's face fell and she didn't move. Tim and Tony froze as Gibbs went to her desk. Out of one pocket came her badge, from the other, her brand new NCIS ID. Last he pulled an agency issued holster and Sig from the small of his back, dropping everything in front of her.

"You too, Probationary Agent David," Gibbs said softer.

A smile lit up Ziva's face and she hurried to put everything in its place. Sliding the gun onto her hip, she turned around automatically and found, to her surprise, a backpack behind her chair, ready to go. Tim and Tony exchanged glances as she hefted it onto her shoulders and frowned at the weight. Ziva started to slide it off but Gibbs was already halfway to the elevator and they had no time to wait.

As they rode down four flights to the parking garage, Ziva shifted her feet, finally glancing at the guys standing behind her, catching Tony in the middle of elbowing McGee conspiratorially as they grinned. Her eyes narrowed. "What did you put in my backpack?" she demanded.

Tony stared straight ahead, refusing to meet her gaze. "Huh. Wouldn't've thought a few little rocks would bother you, Wonder Woman."

She crossed her arms and glared at both of them as the men tried very hard to ignore her presence. Gibbs rolled his eyes, on the verge of headslapping all of them except that he'd never been so happy to see Tim and Tony acting juvenile or watch Ziva make silent threats or...have his team back together for good. Today they could have their fun.

**NCIS**

And they did. Once at the crime scene Ziva was reduced to a probie and made to do all the grunt work Tony usually saved for McGee. They made her carry all the supplies, do bagging and tagging, and when retrieving some evidence meant wading calf deep in a murky, marshy, swamp area, the guys watched with great glee as Ziva was given that task as well.

When they were back in the truck, Ziva slouched in her seat and eyed them carefully. "This is called fazing, yes?"

"Hazing Zi," Tony corrected. "And maybe, but it's only for today."

She nodded once. "Well, that is good. I remember the first time, and it was much longer."

Tony grinned. "Yeah, but we didn't know you then. Now you're part of the team, Probette." At her questioning look, he shrugged. "What? I can't call you both 'Probie', that would just be weird." Then Tony checked to see if anyone was watching before leaning close and whispering, "You're much more special than that."

The rest of the next several hours were taken up by the case. Dead Naval officer dumped in a stream in some back woods. No one even would've noticed if a couple hikers hadn't gotten off the trail and stumbled upon the body. As it was, he'd been dead for awhile.

McGee ran financials, Tony waxed on and on about how it was the wife or the man's mistress or maybe even the wife's mother who did it. Ziva was just glad to be useful again and not given jobs just to keep her busy. Once they had a theory and a main suspect, Gibbs jerked his head at her and Tony.

"David, DiNozzo, bring her in."

Tony grinned with glee - first because Gibbs was taking his mistress idea seriously, and second because finally it was him and his partner, going out and doing what they did best. Out of a strong instinct for self-preservation, Tony drove and they walked to the front porch together. He knocked on the door and announced them, but then the sound of things being shoved out of the way as someone tripped alerted them to an escape in progress.

Guns drawn and sighted, Tony and Ziva hurried around back and nearly ran right into the woman. A startled look overtook her face and Ziva grabbed her arms while Tony handcuffed her. Glancing at his partner, he stared at their suspect. "Why do they always run?"

She shrugged. "It makes our job easier." Ziva got in the woman's face and hissed, "The faster they run, the guiltier they are." Cringing, the woman hung her head and was lead to their car with no further troubles.

To Ziva's delight, Gibbs let her to the interrogation, with her partner beside her playing good cop. It didn't take long to get a confession and Tony left the room with a smile on his face. "Just like old times." He nudged her. "I told you it was the mistress."

Ziva rolled her eyes and walked on ahead. Turning around, she smirked. "Someday Tony, you will be wrong and I am glad I will be around to see it."

He scoffed that DiNozzos were never wrong, but deep down, Tony was glad too.

**NCIS**

Tony waited all day for Ziva to say something about last night, but she acted the whole time as if nothing had happened. He pondered this towards quitting time as he sat at his desk and finally it hit him - she didn't think he knew! The revelation threw Tony for a loop but it made sense in light of Ziva's inability to ask for help. A frown claimed his features as he thought about it. Now that he'd figured out the mystery, Tony didn't feel right just bringing it up, perhaps it was just something Ziva needed to do. And he certainly didn't mind.

That night before he went to bed, Tony left out tea fixings and a movie - Seven Brides for Seven Brothers - an old musical that would make her smile if she woke up during the night. That is, if she even came back. But the way things were going, Tony wasn't sure if going to her and trying to give comfort would mess up whatever this was. He liked to think his apartment had become her sanctuary, even if, for now, it mean he had to keep his distance.

**NCIS**

Ziva went to bed early that night but after her watch alarm woke her for the first time, she forgot to reset the timer and three hours later was suddenly dragged back to Somalia, to a cold night when broken bones ached, when every breath pushed her bruised ribs out and made her fight to keep silent, to not let them know how much pain she was in even if it was obvious.

_The deep burns on her calves and thighs throbbed and her back was still in tatters from Saleem's enthusiasm with the whip days ago. Today's "session" had nearly done her in, she hadn't even been conscious when they left her curled up on the floor, defenseless and broken in so many ways, except the one they wanted._

_It had been hours since they had gone and Ziva had not moved. She could not even shift slightly to alleviate the pressure on her broken arm, because if she did, it would only hurt somewhere else. Shivering in the cold of a dessert night, with only the thin covering of a long sleeved, button up shirt, Ziva wished for death._

_Tomorrow it would only begin all over again and though she did not want to die and leave those who loved her without a chance to beg their forgiveness, she had lost the will to live, to suffer any more for a truth she could not give up because it might endanger the people who kept her memories alive._

_Then the door to her cell creaked open and Ziva's body shuddered involuntarily, bringing with it a wave of pain that rippled through her. Heavy steps came towards her and the deep breathing told her the torture wasn't over yet. Closing her eyes, Ziva tried to remember herself to a different time, a different place, because even as one of them ravaged her again and she couldn't keep from crying out because he was not mindful of her injuries, she could not bring herself to fight any more. She had nothing left. Giving up, she just let it happen._

Ziva fought in her sleep, even if not in the memory, and the world "no" ripped from her throat as her eyes snapped open and she sat up, breathing hard. Saying no had never stopped them, struggling had never discouraged them, fighting had only made them ore determined to have her and to make her pay for her defiance as they took their pleasure from her pain.

Shivering, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. With eyes squeezed tightly shut, Ziva tried to will the images, the emotions, the phantom pain that still lingered away. But none of it could be budged and so she knew she wouldn't close her eyes here again.

Feeling the insatiable need to do something, anything to take her mind off the dream that was more real now than the reality around her, Ziva jumped up and went into her kitchen, flicking on all the lights as she walked. Dishes from a quick supper still soaked in the sink because she couldn't be bothered to wash them earlier. But now she attacked the dirty pot and bowls and utensils with a vengeance, scrubbing everything clean and using her new dishtowels to dry each item so they could all be put away.

Once her kitchen was in order, Ziva checked her watch. Almost 0300. Though she'd fought against it since the moment she woke, Ziva knew that somehow she would end up at Tony's apartment again tonight. Giving in because she was too tired to fight the desire for safety and sleep, Ziva slid on her shoes and grabbed a jacket and keys.

She jogged the short distance to Tony's building, jumping at shadows and flinching at every noise. She picked the locks swiftly but as soon as she stepped into the livingroom, it was obvious Tony knew she'd come last night. A blanket and pillow lay on one end of the couch when she knew she'd put them away that morning. A DVD case was set out on the coffee table and in the kitchen, everything had been left ready if she wanted tea. Only two weeks of sharing a space, it was scary how well Tony had learned her habits.

With the realization that her partner knew her secret, Ziva froze, unsure if she should stay, and there was a moment of panic when she wanted to run. Her protection instincts screamed at her to get away, to leave before she lost her heart to his man who was trying so hard just to care. But after a couple deep breaths, Ziva came to the conclusion that staying couldn't do any harm. After all, Tony was asleep. So she made herself a cup of tea and put on the movie at a very low volume.

When her mug was empty, Ziva curled up under the blanket and tried not to think. Still, it was hard to lay there on Tony's couch, in his apartment, and not remember what it was like when he was beside her, laughing in all the right spots and telling her trivia she didn't care to know and occasionally becoming a human pillow if she nodded off. Just Tony's presence had put Ziva more at ease.

It was nice, being back in his house, the last place she'd truly felt safe, and have a little of the peace and security she'd missed seep back in. But Ziva was loathe to admit, even to herself, that a part of her missed what had been. And though Tony would probably gladly take her back, Ziva refused to ask, needing to do this on her own, even if it was just baby steps and technically sleeping on Tony's couch was cheating. So for now, if this was all she could have, Ziva would take it.

Finally the movie finished playing and everyone got their happily ever after except her, because after Somalia it wasn't allowed. So she closed her eyes and willed the dreams away for just two more hours. If only they would stay away, she could relax and rest. All she wanted to do was sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Over the next several days Ziva's moment of weakness became a nightly routine. She would go to sleep at her apartment, but at the first disturbance (she gave up on the watch set for two hours idea when the dreams got sneakier), she would get up and stall as long as she could before finally caving and going over to her partner's place. But every time she went, things changed a little bit more.

On the third night Ziva walked in to find the couch made up as a bed again, with sheets and a pillow, and a blanket that smelled like Tony. She laid awake for a long time, trying to work out how exactly being in his apartment and surrounded by his scent made her feel safe, but Ziva never came to a satisfactory conclusion.

The day after was Thursday, marking almost a week since she'd moved into her new place. After work Ziva headed downtown to sign up for a gym membership at a small club that specialized in specific kinds of training. She'd done her research and found out it was run by an ex-special forces man and the classes were exactly what she needed. There was kickboxing, hand to hand combat, martial arts - tai kwon do, kung fu, krav maga, judo, jujitsu -, self-defense, take down techniques and more. Ziva resolved to spend as much time there as she could, needing to build her strength and skills back up now that she had a team to protect again.

The owner himself, a man in his mid to late forties, was at the front desk when Ziva walked into the gym called Ops. He looked up, gave her a once over, and smiled like they shared a secret. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. "Duke Manning, special forces."

Ziva was surprised but shook his hand, impressed by the firm grip. That four second first impression told her a lot about him. "Ziva."

Duke smiled. "Cagey. I'm gonna guess federal because it's DC, but the accent tells me you probably didn't start there."

Weighing whether she was ready to trust others with slightly more personal information, she nodded once and relaxed her stance. "I am NCIS, but my background is Mossad."

He whistled. "Wow. You guys go through some crazy intense training for that. So tell me Ziva," Duke leaned back against the desk, "what can I do for you?"

Tensing a little, Ziva took a breath and sketched out the details, she would probably need his help at first. "Before the summer I was on a mission in Africa. I was captured and held for three months. I have been back just over a month and am now able to focus on training again."

Duke eyed the woman carefully. He could read a lot between the lines of what she didn't say. On a mission probably mean for Mossad. Captured didn't mean a stark cell in a dark prison, it likely meant months of torture to try to get information out of her. But she'd been rescued, so her team at NCIS obviously cared about her a great deal. She was alive, so she hadn't been broken. And she was here, her will and determination to get back into top shape saying a lot about her character. But she'd seen hell and that did strange things to a person. A month was nothing compared to the road she still had to walk to get close to being okay again.

"Alright," he said finally, "why don't you come with me. I'd like a demonstration of your skills and you can tell me where you want to go and what needs to be improved. I'll work with you one on one and we'll see if we can't put that fighting spirit to good use."

A genuine smile lit Ziva's eyes briefly and she followed Duke to an empty studio. The admiration she'd seen on his face made her feel for the first time like she had not failed and Ziva wondered if maybe she had just made a friend.

Duke saw Ziva for training every day after that. Some nights he would watch her push her limits and fight to be able to do more. Usually he had to kick her stubborn butt out before closing time, but he never tried to stop her. He knew the kind of demons she was struggling with and they would not be subdued or beaten back easily.

Slowly, her endurance began to improve and she bested every guy who was training at Ops, none of them could even touch her. But she never did more than she needed to do to take someone down. Even when she sparred with him, Duke had a feeling she was holding back. And he wondered what would be left at him if she really gave it her best shot. But one thing was for sure no matter how much mystery remained, Ziva David was one incredible woman.

**NCIS**

The night after she joined Ops, a lesser but still chilling nightmare sent her fleeing to Tony's and Ziva noticed something new. On the pillow lay the long sleeved OSU shirt and the small, drawstring sweatpants she'd slept in during her stay with him. It was then Ziva knew Tony must be watching her, or he'd never know how often she fell asleep in her clothes.

She sat with the shirt and pants on her lap for a long time before moving down the hall and undressing in the bathroom so she could change into them. From that night on the clothes were always on the pillow when she arrived, and Ziva fell asleep surrounded by the memories of sharing the apartment and the bed with her partner.

**NCIS**

Friday was Abby and McGee's second date. This was one was a shade more casual than their first date - dinner at a little café and then a chilly walk out at the edge of the city where the sky was dark and they could watch the stars. It was beautiful and peaceful, a time that did not need words, even for the girl who loved to talk more than almost anything else.

All night Tim had been looking at Abby adoringly and she was beginning to feel self-conscious. Finally he came to a stop on the path and turned to look at her. "Abby?" he said breathlessly, and by his tone she knew it was something serious so gave him her full attention without trying to interrupt or lighten the mood.

Tim closed his eyes briefly and took a breath before meeting her eyes. "I love you. I've loved you for days and weeks, probably years if I was completely honest. That day you welcomed me home and gave me a hug but didn't let go, I knew I never wanted to leave you again. Then you asked me to stay and I said yes because it was one step closer to being with you." He swallowed as his words trickled off, repeating the declaration. "I love you. I just wanted you to know."

Abby couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face. She never thought she'd be so happy to hear those words. "Timmy," she brought her palm to his cheek, "I love you too. You've always been it for me, even when I tried to get away and date other people. I've never been more happy or content than over this last month and a half. Thank you," she whispered.

The love in Tim's eyes grew to take over his entire expression, and slowly he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was long and sweet, not rushed or urgent, just an expression of their hearts. But Abby felt in it everything he'd said and more and realized how much he'd been holding back when they were together.

When McGee pulled away, Abby wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting the security of his hug, the reassurance of what they'd finally said and admitted to each other. Tim gladly obliged and held her close and tight. His heart leapt when Abby's lips brushed his ear, her voice gentle and full of anticipation.

"Wow Timmy. First date I get a rose, second date a 'I love you' and a kiss. I wonder what I get on the third date?"

He lowered his head to her shoulder and thought the words in his head because he wasn't brave enough yet to say them out loud. _A ring_, Tim admitted, hoping beyond hope that when he asked she'd finally be ready to say yes. Then McGee captured his girlfriend's lips again and kissed her until Abby was seeing stars. But they had nothing to do with the ones in the sky and everything to do with the love filling her boyfriend's gentle green eyes. Tonight was perfect.

**NCIS**

On Ziva's fifth night as his place, Tony left a key sitting on the coffee table beside _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days_. She'd put the movie on before she noticed the key and then she just stared at it, knowing something was about to change. Finally, after many long minutes where she argued with her thoughts and talked herself into and out of accepting such a gesture a dozen times, Ziva picked up the small piece of metal and attached it to her keyring with a shaking hand. It was a step in a new direction, having a key to Tony's apartment, and that instead of the dreams kept Ziva awake this time.

Saturday morning found Ziva leaving Tony's apartment early to go swimming and spending the next several hours reading over the study materials for her citizenship test. Though months away, there was much she needed to learn and Ziva threw herself into the information with the same determination that she tackled every other problem with.

But weekends were slowly becoming time to hang out with her partner, so when Tony showed up just after lunch with his laptop and one of the Lara Croft movies, Ziva wasn't a bit surprised. Again he stayed for supper, challenged her to chess games he never won and said good night while his eyes always begged to be allowed to stay. Ziva felt his request in her heart but couldn't allow herself to give in, not to his face. Nights at his place were a serious enough concession, even if they never spoke of it and both pretended the other didn't know they knew about it.

Sunday morning Tony was waiting for her outside again and they did an easy, two mile run in silence. Easy for Ziva anyhow, when on mornings alone she was pushing five miles, though if Ducky asked she'd likely downplay it to just over three and a half. Breakfast was almost a given, though it was too cold to sit outside anymore. So Joe's, the diner down the street, quickly became their favourite place to stop. Some afternoons he would stay and others he wouldn't, but the supply of movies never ran out and occasionally Ziva would notice a new case on the shelf with the rest of her slowly growing film collection.

**NCIS**

On Tuesday night, a week after her official reinstatement at NCIS, Gibbs motioned for her to come with him when they left work early for a change. Curious, Ziva followed her boss to his car and got in, receiving no explanation whatsoever about where they were going. Several minutes later Gibbs pulled into a used car lot and drove around back. He parked and waited for her to get out, then pointed to the '92 Pontiac that sat in front of them.

"It's not pretty," he said, stating the obvious, "but it'll get you where you need to go." Then Gibbs reached out his arm and dropped the keys in her open hand.

Ziva was shocked, surprised, and completely touched that Gibbs had found her a car. It wasn't another Mini and it wasn't even close to being new, but it was a car and to Ziva it was freedom and independence. She ran her hand reverently over the chipped white paint and unlocked the door to touch the soft, worn, blueish-grey upholstery. Finally convinced it was real, she turned around and thanked Gibbs with a hug. He held her close for a moment and let her go.

"How much?" Ziva asked, thinking about her bank balance.

A brief look of annoyance flashed in Gibbs' eyes before he relaxed on the hood of his car and crossed his arms. "Been taken care of. Car's bought and paid for. It's yours Ziva and it'll work well for you. I know you don't like taking the bus, hard to keep an eye on everyone."

She loved that he understood her uneasiness with public transit without her even having to say a word, but she still wasn't sure about accepting such a gift. "I do not want to be your charity case Gibbs," Ziva said stubbornly.

Gibbs stared at her with a knowing look before moving to her side and kissing the top of her head, trying a different tactic. He was nothing if not persistent. "I would've done the same thing for Kelly," he whispered. "And I'll take care of you now because I love you like my own Ziver."

Completely deflated, Ziva had no way to argue with that. So she just hugged him again and whispered, "Toda," in his ear. Then he gave her the temporary permit she'd been issued to drive NCIS vehicles until her license could be re-issued, and watched as she started the car and pulled out of the lot.

Later that night Gibbs' doorbell rang and he opened it to find that a tray of shepherd's pie and a pan of brownies, still warm, had appeared. He stepped closer to the road with a smile and saw a white car with DC plates fading into the shadows down the street. Gibbs knew it was a tangible way she could say thank you and it meant a lot to him. Ziva had been through more in twenty plus years than most people saw in a lifetime. But she was coming out on top and he was so incredibly proud of her.

**NCIS**

Ziva loved the freedom of having her own car again and took care of the license and insurance issue the next day. Even having one more bill to pay could not dampen her enthusiasm, she was finally getting her life back. Then, on night eight of sleeping at Tony's apartment, there was a note with the DVD he'd selected, _Save the Last Dance_.

She held the paper in her hand for awhile before unfolding it. She'd read his thoughts and feelings once, when she'd found his computer journal, Ziva wasn't sure if she was strong enough to read them again and still keep her walls in place. But she did open it up at last and on the creamy white page was a single sentence. It shook her, what he'd written, and she knew then that Tony had been paying more than just casual attention to almost everything she'd said for a long time. The reference went back nearly three years.

Setting the note down as if his words had burned her, Ziva sighed. Even after the last month and everything Tony had done for her, she was still afraid to let him in too much. When she couldn't look at the paper any more, Ziva shoved it under the pillow and took it to work with her in the morning.

The note haunted her all day as she let her gaze rest on Tony longer and longer. She knew he was pretending not to notice, even though he could probably feel her eyes watching him, trying to figure it out. How did he do it? How did Tony know how to touch something so deep inside her, a dream broken and buried when she was fourteen?

With words scribbled on a piece of paper, Tony had made her remember, and a long forgotten desire now stirred in her heart. If only she had the courage... A passion forbidden long ago had been unlocked again by eight little words. _I'd really like to see you dance sometime Zi. T_.

**NCIS**

Abby and McGee's third date wasn't formal at all. On a Saturday afternoon they went for a walk and Tim took her out for ice cream. The sun was out and it was a beautiful, mild day, unexpected near the end of October, so they headed down to the river and followed the paved path that ran along the Anacostia. They held hands the whole time and smiled at the other every time their eyes met. Eventually they both finished their cones and Tim gestured to a bench. Abby nodded, so they sat, their fingers fitting in between each other like puzzle pieces.

Tim took a minute to just look at her. A slight curl in her high pigtails, a blouse and black skirt with her black skull zip up sweater overtop. He loved it because she was just Abby, the way she was every day. He drew in his breath and met her eyes, loving the smile she gave him.

"Abby," McGee began, his hand resting on the box in his coat pocket, "are you happy with us? With how things are? You don't want me to go back to my place or anything, right?"

She frowned, hearing in his words the old, unsure Timmy she'd met for the first time all those years ago. He'd grown so much since then and regression always made her nervous, it meant he was thinking too much. "Of course I don't want you to go McGee," Abby stressed. "Why would you ask that?"

Tim sighed. "Just making sure." He hesitated, then pushed forward, his heart beating fast and fingers trembling as he pulled out the box. "Will you marry me Abby? I love you and I don't ever want to be with anyone else. I've loved sharing these last two months with you, but I want it to be our life together, not just something we're borrowing and playing with." McGee's voice lowered. "I want you in my bed for real and not just to sleep. I want us to be one in every way. Please say yes." He stopped short of begging and held his breath.

Abby was in shock. In a million years she would never have seen this coming. She'd always said she was never getting married, but Gibbs' mistakes, his regrets, didn't have to be hers, and she knew she'd regret it forever if she let this amazing man in front of her go.

Leaning forward, Abby kissed him softly once, then again, smiling against his lips as she whispered, "Yes Timmy, I would love to marry you."

His face lit up and he covered her mouth with his, pouring a well of love into the kiss. They held each other and kissed and touched gently and murmured words of love and joy on lips and against skin. Finally they broke apart far enough for Abby to see the ring he'd gotten for her. It was a thin silver band with a square cut diamond inset and small emeralds on each side.

"To match your eyes," Tim explained, sliding it into place on her left ring finger.

Abby stared down at his promise, his claim on her, and hugged her fiancé tightly. "When?" she asked.

Tim started looking a little worried. "Tomorrow?" he offered and she could see something in his eyes that said he wasn't even close to joking.

"Okay..." she said slowly, not wanting him to think she didn't like the idea. "Kinda short notice though, don't you think?" She was thinking about plans and guests and trying to figure out how it would all work. Not to mention Gibbs did not like to be surprised.

McGee looked down and studied her ring. "I was thinking of going to City Hall, doing something really small." Before Abby could comment, he continued. "I don't want to tell anyone Abbs. With everything going on with Ziva finally just settling down and Somalia still feeling close, I don't want to rock the boat and you know this would. I thought we could just keep it to ourselves for awhile. If you want we can do a big wedding later, I promise," Tim hurried on, "just..." He stopped speaking and fell silent.

"Just what?" Abby asked when he didn't say more.

Tim shrugged. "I guess I just ran out of words."

She brushed her fingers down his cheek. "I love you Tim and I want to be married to you, so if you want to do it small and keep it quiet, that's fine with me." Abby leaned close and rested her face against his. "I just want to be yours."

Because words failed him and all Tim could see was how much he loved her, how he'd always loved her, he cradled Abby's face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. "Thank you Abby, for saying yes."

She shook her head slightly. "Silly boy. What else could I say? We've lived a lifetime in the last two months. I'm ready for something that is ours."

For awhile they sat close together, basking in the glow of their engagement. Tim ran his fingers across her palm, around to the back of her hand, over her wrist, and back down to her fingernails over and over again, needing to touch her even if it was something small. Finally Abby broke the silence.

"I think I want a white dress McGee," she said.

Tim was surprised, Abby had never struck him as traditional. But they were getting married and that was all he cared about. "Whatever Abbs, I'll take you shopping right now if you want."

"And roses, red ones and black ones," she continued, "because they're a combination of both of us."

He chuckled, liking her logic. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Abby smiled, "you have to promise me something."

Tim sat up to look at her. "Anything."

She shook her head. "I knew you'd say that. When you decide it's the right time to tell everyone else, you have to take me on a honeymoon. Somewhere far away where we can just be two people in love and the rest of the world doesn't get to intrude. Deal?"

McGee lifted Abby's hand and kissed her ring. "Deal. I promise Abbs, we'll go somewhere, just the two of us."

"Good." She nodded, feeling the matter settled. "But now we have a problem."

Tim's eyebrows drew together, not liking how that sounded. "What?"

Abby grinned. "I don't know how I'm going to wait until tomorrow."


	30. Chapter 30

At five minutes to ten am on Saturday morning, McGee stood in a small room at City Hall, called the Marriage Ceremony Room, with an official of the court who was to perform the wedding. Tim watched the door anxiously, straightening his tie as he waited for it to open.

Exactly on time, the door swung inward and there stood Abby, his beautiful bride. Her hair was down and curly, pulled back on the sides with two pearl clips that had belonged to her great-grandmother. She never thought she'd have an occasion to wear them and then she was suddenly getting married.

The dress she'd chosen surprised McGee but he thought she looked amazing. It was white, as requested, and came to just below her knees. Short sleeves and beading on the bodice made it look a little old fashioned, but Abby seemed to like those kinds of things. Her hands were wrapped around a bouquet of black and red roses and when she smiled, Tim felt his heart beat double-time.

He met her eyes, dark green and clear green locked onto each other, and neither wavered as Abby slowly walked from the doorway towards him. Even though technically civil ceremonies did not usually include a walk down the aisle, the Goth had insisted and Tim was prepared to give her anything she wanted. It was, after all, her wedding day.

It seemed to take years and McGee counted every step. Finally she was close enough and he reached out his hand, curling his fingers around hers. His grin was wide enough to split his face and the joy he read in his fiancee's eyes was something Tim knew he would never forget.

The ceremony was brief and it felt like they barely had time to blink before the officiate turned to Tim and said the words he'd been waiting to hear. "Do you, Timothy McGee, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and care for her as long as you both shall live?"

Tim nodded. "I do."

The man smiled. "Then please say your vows to her."

Clearing his throat, Tim took both of Abby's hands in his and lowered his voice as if he were telling a secret just to her. "I take you, Abby, to be my wife. I promise to love, honour and cherish you from this day on. For eight years you have held my heart and I give it to you anew today, hoping that you will be able to keep it safe for the next eighty years or more."

He raised his hand and stroked her cheek, wiping away the lone tear that had fallen. "I love you Abby and I've waited a long time for this moment. I've chosen you as the person with whom I want to spend the rest of my life, and I promise to be faithful to you as long as I live."

Abby sniffed and held out her hand for Tim to slide the plain silver wedding band into place. Her smile was a little watery as the officiant looked at her now.

"Do you, Abigail Bethany Scuito, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and care for him as long as you both shall live?"

It took the bride a minute before she could get the word out, and then it was so soft the officiant had to ask her to repeat it. "Yes," she said a little louder, "I do."

Again the man smiled. "Then please say your vows to him."

She took a deep breath. "Timmy, from the first time we met you got under my skin and then somehow, over the years, you crawled all the way to my heart. You love all the black clothes that I wear, you love my pigtails and my tattoos, you love me just the way I am. For years you have been my best friend, today I will be proud to call you my husband. You are my safe place to hide, a shelter I can run to when I have nowhere else to go and now I know you'll always be here, with me."

Abby paused to brush away a few more tears and stared straight into his beautiful eyes. "I love you Tim and I can't believe we're finally here. This is the start of the rest of our lives and I promise to be yours and yours alone, because nothing but Death will be able to take me from you now, and even then I'd fight him just so I didn't have to be without you. I promise myself to you and that promise is forever."

Taking Tim's larger hand in hers, Abby gently pushed the heavy silver band over his knuckle. It was real, they belonged to each other, and the rings were a symbol that their love, like a circle, would forever be unbroken.

The officiant closed his book and looked at both of them separately. "By the power vested in me by the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He winked at Tim. "Mr. McGee, you may now kiss your bride."

A grin spread across Tim's face and he took a step towards Abby. Sliding his fingers along her cheeks and into her hair, he cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. Abby could taste the pure delight in her new husband's kiss and she dropped her flowers on the ground so she could wind her arms around his neck. It was the best kiss yet.

Breathing a little heavily, Tim pulled away only a fraction, resting his forehead against hers. "Happy Wedding Day Mrs. McGee."

The new name thrilled Abby from her eyelashes to the paint on her toenails and she smoothed her hand over his familiar face. "Happy Wedding Day Tim." Then she let go of him and jumped up and down a couple of times. "I can't believe we're married!"

He caught her as she threw herself at him and McGee knew then that he'd never had a true Abby hug until that moment. He never wanted to let go of her ever again.

**NCIS**

While McGee and Abby were saying their vows and binding their lives together, for all eternity as Abby would probably say, Tony was knocking on Ziva's front door, absolutely determined to take her shopping finally. He'd waited long enough that he was almost ready to try out his own lock picking skills, when Ziva finally opened the door. Her hair was wet and her face flushed when she looked at him without meeting his eyes.

"I am sorry Tony," she explained. "I was in the shower."

Now it was Tony's turn to be a bit embarrassed as he tried to focus on anything but that image. He chuckled, falling back on humour to save the moment. "Y'know, I've always had this fantastic sense of timing, I could tell you stories..."

At this Ziva smiled and shook her head. "Your stories can be dangerous," she reminded him.

Back on familiar, bantering territory, Tony threw her a grin and followed her in. "You love them." He plopped down on the couch as Ziva went to the bathroom and came back with a brush. "Today's the day," he announced brightly.

She frowned. "What day?"

"The day we got shopping and start working on the list we made, of course."

Ziva stared at him. There he went with 'we' again. He used it at every opportunity, even though their two weeks together was long up. "Well," she considered his offer and looked around. It would be nice to add some decorative touches and make her apartment feel more like a home. "Alright," Ziva agreed, nervously wondering how badly her bank account would suffer for this.

"Great!" Tony's eyes lit up and Ziva rolled hers. It was going to be like shopping with a six year old on a sugar high.

Since Tony decided their first stop had to be a TV store, Ziva's prediction was mostly correct. She hadn't seen a man this excited about electronics since McGee got his computer system upgraded last year and she knew for a fact that her partner wouldn't appreciate the comparison. Tony dragged her through multiple aisles, pointing out everything might possibly be of interest, and filled the cart full of accessories she was sure she didn't need long before they even looked at televisions. Then she had to put her foot down.

"No Tony, I do not need a 52" large screen."

"But Ziva, then you'd get to really experience the movie!" He tried to convey the importance of this fact.

Ziva stared at him. "I would rather experience life debt free and have a small, normal sized TV set, thank you."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Have it your way."

"Thank you," she smirked, "I will."

"That was rhetorical," Tony muttered and Ziva shrugged.

"I know."

"You're really taking all the fun out of this shopping thing," he groused.

She raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms. "You did not have to come."

Quickly Tony corrected himself. "I mean, this is great. I can't wait for more!"

They ended up picking out a modest, 32" flat screen TV that would fit well in Ziva's small livingroom. When it came time to check out, she gulped at the total and Tony whipped out his wallet, handing his credit card to the cashier before Ziva even realized what he was doing.

"Half on that," he told her.

Ziva frowned and her voice was dangerously low. "Tony..."

Tony shook his head. "Look, I'm the one who suggested all this stuff and I'm going to be over all the time watching movies on it, so you may as well just let me cover some of the cost now."

Staring at him, Ziva bit her lip before giving in. As much as she wanted to argue, the look in his eyes wouldn't let her. She was getting very bad at saying 'no' to him and it was once again bothering Ziva in the back of her mind that between them everything was very much becoming yours, mine, and ours. Except they weren't a couple and neither was good at sharing their toys. But before she had time to think very deeply about it, Tony was dragging her off to the next store, trying not to over-analyze her preoccupation. He would only worry about what he didn't know.

Tony and Ziva shopped for the next several hours, often getting very creative with their purchases because despite Tony's excitement and insistence, he knew she really was trying to conserve her cash. By the end of their spree, almost everything on Ziva's list had been taken care of and they made many trips up the stairs from her car (because it was bigger) to carry everything in.

While Tony delightedly set about getting her TV, DVD player etc. hooked up, Ziva sat down on the floor surrounded by bags and started on the project she was most looking forward to - finding homes for many of the team photos from Abby. This was her family and she wanted to see them every time she walked into her apartment. Even if she did already see them and feel their love in every item that had been donated to her move-in.

The remaining hours of the day were taken up with hanging pictures, setting out frames, putting up curtains and finally, relaxing on her couch with the new throw pillows she'd picked out and the pizza they'd ordered, enjoying a movie Tony managed to sneak past her at one of the stores - _The Core_. The premise was intriguing, if a little far fetched, but before Ziva knew it she was drifting off to sleep. Late night training sessions, early morning runs, and too little rest were taking their toll.

Tony didn't mind in the least. An hour with Ziva sleeping on his shoulder was pretty much akin to heaven for him. But when the movie finished Tony made himself get up slowly, moving her to lay down on the couch. He kissed her dark curls and whispered 'good night', holding back the words he longed to say because the timing still wasn't, and might never be, right.

Leaving her wasn't easy and it took a lot for him to pack up his things and get ready to leave. Then he had to figure out how to lock the door behind him. Shoving his hands in his jacket pocket as he thought, Tony was surprised when his fingers brushed against a small piece of metal and he didn't remember being there.

Frowning, Tony pulled his hand out and saw a shiny new key, with a paper attached that said simply 'T', in Ziva's handwriting. Joy filled him as he realized that she had taken a huge step towards truly trusting him with that gesture. Smiling, he looked over his shoulder one more time, locked her in for the night, and slid her key onto his keyring, letting it fall next to the one for his apartment. One step at a time, and this time they might actually be going somewhere.

**NCIS**

Monday was another early morning for Ziva and even a five mile run wasn't enough to keep the demons from her dreams away. She was at her desk by 0630, grateful to have her study materials to keep her busy. It seemed her early mornings were good for something, and at least when her head was full of the American Constitution there wasn't room to think about anything else.

By 0800 though, Ziva decided it was time. After more than a week of training every day after work, trying to exhaust herself in hopes of sleeping with no nightmares, she knew she finally had to ask for help. It wasn't working and Ziva knew both Tony and Gibbs had noticed and were worried because she wasn't sleeping. She'd brushed off their concern many times and it wasn't easy for her to admit now that they were right.

Picking up her phone, Ziva dialed the number she'd looked for earlier, holding the small green card in her hand.

"Dr. Andrew's office," a younger woman's voice said.

She took a deep breath. "My name is Ziva David. I need to speak with her please."

It wasn't her favourite option, but having tried everything else she could possibly think of, Ziva realized that maybe she was finally ready to talk.

**NCIS**

Tony and Ziva still, after nearly two weeks, had not spoken of her nightly visits. She wasn't yet able to say that she needed someone, needed him specifically, and Tony didn't want her to stop coming over. He liked knowing she was there even if he was sleeping. And whatever was happening, it seemed to work for them. Ziva felt better trying to sleep when she knew Tony was just down the hall, though sometimes she had to concentrate very hard not to remember what it was like to feel him lying next to her, ready at a moment's notice to save her from the dreams.

She had to work herself out of the nightmares alone now because of the unspoken deal between them that Tony wouldn't come to her. But some nights all she wanted was his arms around her, holding her tight, and his gentle voice whispering in her ear that everything was going to be okay. It was so tempting to creep down the hall and slip under the covers of his bed, but Ziva never let herself give in. She needed to be strong again, she had to deal with this without him.

Tony never told her the agony it was to lay in his room and hear her restlessness and occasional screams and to still stay away. To gain her trust and maybe more, he had to respect her wishes, but it was torture of a different kind to listen to her suffer in the dark when she could've had him to be her light. So he took to his computer, writing letters each time he woke because she couldn't sleep any more. The number of documents in his new folder grew with each passing night as Tony poured his heart out, waiting for the day when they might someday be something more.

**NCIS**

On Monday night Tony smiled when he got up and saw Ziva sleeping on his couch like usual. Taking a seat in the kitchen, he contented himself with watching her from afar. _Someday it will be more_, Tony promised himself. _At least she chose me to feel safe with, that's got to mean something_. When she was here, Tony felt like this was home and for now it was enough.

END OF PART TWO

_A/N: Alright guys, can you believe it? After five months and thirty chapters we've finally come to the end of Part 2 of my Remnants of Somalia series. I just want to thank you all so much for sticking with me and leaving so many lovely reviews - we're over 350! I'm amazed by your reactions. I've gotten so many beautiful comments and so much encouragement that it's overwhelming in the best of ways._

_So now that we've got a foundation for this series, and there is so much yet to come. Stay tuned! Put me on Author Alert or keep an eye out for new stories on my profile because Chapter 1 of Part 3 will be posted during the first week of October, 2011. I can't wait to see you all then! Again, thanks for everything, you guys are awesome! :)_

_Love, Aliyah :D_


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